The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking
by Canadino
Summary: Don't accept rides from strangers! Unless, of course, they are the Bad Company Trio - then hitchhike away! Pairings and summary inside, T for Prussia's mouth. Indefinite HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: --

**Minimal fluff 09!**

**Summary**: The Vargas twins, Feliciano and Romano, start on a little roadtrip before starting collage when a little setback leaves them stranded on the side of a highway. Willing to hitchhike half the way, they meet the devious Bad Company Trio: France, Spain, and Prussia! Will they manage to get along with these three, or will they be forced to part ways? Remember, a roadtrip isn't a roadtrip without a bit of sexual tension! Pairings include: one-sided Spain/Italy leading to Spain/Romano, France/Canada, Prussia/everyone including himself, and cameos of other pairings (USUK, Giripan, etc…)

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The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 1

Had Feliciano been wearing a revealing top, a skirt short enough to be illegal in a handful of countries, and three inch stilettos, perhaps he might have painted a sexy picture in the middle of the deserted highway. Still, he persisted as he waved around a cardboard sign reading WORLD OR BUST, standing on a suitcase and nearly falling off it. No, he was not dressed in womanly clothing but he got as close as he could, decked in a low cut tank top and pink plaid Bermuda shorts. The car, which engine was smoldering a few feet away, had no air conditioning and he had been forced to wear his current clothing. Not that he was complaining, though.

"I'm telling you, you idiot, there's not going to be anyone driving around this damn desert place any time soon. Let's just take our luggage and go."

"But Romano, the next town could be _miles_ away!" Feliciano turned to his brother, who was sitting a heartbeat away from him in more masculine clothing. The Vargas twins were almost supernaturally identical, if Feliciano was not more bubbly and outgoing and Romano was more high maintenance and insulting. "And I don't think we can walk that far!"

Romano groaned, burying his head in his hands. "I knew this was a bad idea. Not only would I be carted around this damn road trip with _you _of all people but the damn car rental couldn't give us a sports car. I knew we were doomed."

"We didn't have enough to actually _go_ on the road trip if we spent all our money on that Ferrari," Feliciano mused, not pausing in waving his sign side to side as if he were a cheerleader.

"What should we do if no one comes? We didn't even bring any food."

"What _should_ we do? I don't think you taste good, Romano."

"I would not kill myself for you to eat, you cannibal!"

"Ve~ I was only kidding…" It wasn't looking very pleasant for the two; they were stranded in a particularly hot part of the highway, in an almost movie-like setting – vast desert with a tumbleweed here and there with plateaus in the distance. In fact, if he wasn't hungry and sweating, Feliciano could almost pretend he was a spy in an espionage flick Romano would never watch with him. He didn't know this part of the world had places like this, but then again, there were a lot of things he didn't know about the world.

"Car!" Romano screeched, breaking Feliciano out from his train of thought. Indeed, there was a vehicle speeding down the highway toward them. Feeling a surge of energy, Feliciano waved his sign even more energetically and Romano had leapt to his feet as well. The car, a rather rundown van doohickey thing, was basically flying down the road as if speed was not an issue, nor was stopping. "Jump in front of it," Romano ordered, shoving his little brother onto the highway. "It won't run you over."

"But it's going so fast!" Feliciano cried, holding the sign in front of him like a shield. The car started to stop, although the tires seemed to emit sparks doing so. There was a loud shout coming from one of the rolled down windows and a head poked out of the passenger seat, along with the torso belonging to that head. Red eyes below a mop of snowy white hair kept contact with Feliciano as he shouted something incomprehensible to the driver. The car continued its crash course toward the younger Vargas brother and even Romano was starting to doubt his words.

Then the van, the color of rust and dirt combined, came to a screeching halt as it skidded past Feliciano. Giving a lurch forward due to velocity, the man hanging out the window nearly fell out but quickly slipped back into the car. The driver backed the car until it was adjacent to Feliciano, who had since stopped his panic attack after the threat to his life passed.

"Hi!" he chirped as the driver's window rolled down. "My name is Feliciano Vargas, and this is Romano, my brother. Our car went kablooey and we're kind of stranded here. Can you give us a ride to the next town so we can get help? Thank you kindly, stranger!"

The driver, a dirty blonde with just a hint of stubble on his chin, smiled back. "Well, hello there, sweetheart! We'd love to give you two a ride but there _is_ no town nearby. We're heading toward the city, though. Is that okay?"

"We were heading for the city too! We were supposed to go on a cross country road trip but then our car went crazy so that's our story!" Still holding the sign as if it was his lifeline, Feliciano grinned. Romano, who had been watching to see if the occupants of the car were or were not crazed rapists who would grab his brother and run, finally walked up to him and smacked him across the head. "You idiot, why would you tell them all that?"

"They're going to help us, so why wouldn't we tell them?"

The driver laughed. "Well, you got us there! We're going on a road trip ourselves! I know we just met, but would it be weird to ask if we could join forces and combine road trips?"

"That _is _weird," Romano insisted, but Feliciano spoke louder. "That would be great!"

"_Magnifique!_ That's your luggage over there, right?" he asked, gesturing to the three suitcases lying about on the desert floor. "Go get those and throw them in the back."

"We're going to leave the car?" Feliciano asked anxiously.

"Sweetie, I think the car's a lost cause."

"Don't call my brother…" But before Romano could chide the flashy driver, Feliciano had pulled him away to get their bags. "Feliciano!" he hissed as they got out of earshot from the car. "What were you thinking? Accepting a ride from total strangers! What if they take us somewhere shady, rape us, and leave us for dead? You and your dumb naïve brain! We don't know who they are!"

"I'm sure they won't do anything bad," Feliciano assured him, pulling a suitcase upright. "I have a feeling. I think they're good people!"

"They were speeding down a highway, Feliciano. I don't like this at all."

"Come on, Romano. If they do anything, we make a fuss and jump out of the car. What's the worst that could happen?"

"_Fine_, but if they _do_ rape us and leave us for dead, I told you so." Pulling along the remainder of the bags, Romano followed his brother back onto the road, leaving the still steaming car behind them. The albino who had been hanging out the window was waiting for them in the back.

"You guys travel kind of heavy, don't you?" he asked, staring at the three suitcases. "I don't mind though." Throwing the trunk doors open, he revealed the back of the car which had no wall dividing it from the rest of the car. There was another person in the car, but neither twin could really see him/her since he/she had leaned forward to discuss something with the driver. Prussia grabbed their bags and flung them into the space in the back. There was not much in the back except for a ratty mattress, a thin blanket, some rope, a pickax, and a flashlight. Romano glared at his brother, who pretended not to notice.

"You guys didn't bring anything?" Feliciano instead asked. The albino turned to him with a grin.

"We don't like to travel heavy. And anyway, this road trip of ours was kind of out of the blue so we just took off. We'll figure everything out when we get to wherever we go to!" Slamming the doors shut, he led the twins over to the side of the car. "You'll have to sit in the back with Spain, sorry. There's no room in the front."

"It's okay," Feliciano said cheerfully, opening the side door. There was another person, around the ages of the driver and the albino man climbing into the passenger seat. He was smiling up a sun, his brown eyes looking excited under a mop of messy dark hair. Feliciano smiled back, climbing onto the seat next to him. When he saw that Romano hadn't come onto the car as well, he turned to tell his brother that all was fine, he hadn't been ravished yet so it should be fine.

Romano's face was flushed, his green eyes wide as he looked at Spain. Wondering what on earth was wrong, Feliciano reached over and grabbed his brother's wrist. "Come on, Romano. What're you waiting for?"

"Don't grab me," Romano snapped, pulling away, still red. "I can get into the car by myself." Proving his point, he slipped into the seat and pulled the door closed.

"And we're off!" the albino shouted, pointing forward. At once, the driver floored the gas and they shot forward. The twins did as well, Feliciano wedging himself between the driver and passenger seat as Romano hit the passenger seat full on.

"You two should wear your seat belts," the dark haired young man said helpfully, Helping Feliciano ease back into the seat. "France drives kind of…fast."

"Thanks!" Feliciano chirped, as he heard Romano mutter, "Late warning," to himself as they strapped themselves in. "So," the younger Vargas brother said, still sounding optimistic, "you know our names. What are yours?"

"Have we forgotten to introduce ourselves?" the driver asked, taking his eyes off the road to turn around. The car swerved and his turned back to the highway. "We apologize! My name is France, this albino wolf next to me is Prussia, and the guy next to you is Spain!"

"Why do you call yourselves after countries?" Romano asked. "Some weird fetish?"

"That would be a weird fetish," Prussia agreed, leaning back so his entire upper body was turned to them. "So let me, awesome me, tell you a thing or two. Are you guys still in school?"

"Starting our first year of collage late," Feliciano answered, nodding. "We decided to take a road trip after high school and start collage one year later."

"Cool! We're skipping our second year for this shebang. We figure, what the hell, we already suffered through our first year, and the next three years should be hell too, right? A vacation can't possibly hurt."

"So you guys are just lazy," Romano summarized.

"Wrong!" Prussia sang. "But that's not what I'm telling you about. Have you heard about the battle of succession for Austria back in the day? The three countries who were so badass to band together against it were France, Prussia, and Spain! So, since we're badass enough to attack everything together, our nicknames are from the Bad Company Trio. We conned that name too."

"We've been friends since we were in diapers," France added. "Well…I guess I should also mention my real name is Francis, so it wasn't a hard decision which one I would be."

"Right, and my parents are from Germany, specifically the eastern part. And since Prussia was, formerly, the eastern part of Germany, so that's me! I'm Gilbert by the way, but really, call me Prussia."

"My actual name is Antonio, but since I'm Spanish, I'm Spain," explained Spain. "We three have basically gone through primary, middle, and high school together and somehow got into the same university! So the Bad Company Trio's stood the test of time."

"That's really cool," Feliciano said, giving Spain a sparkling smile, who flushed slightly and grinned back.

"No, it's juvenile," Romano grumbled. "You three really _are_ bad company." He would have sulked and looked out the window, but as the van was the 'stake-out-and-stalk' type, the only windows came from the front and the front side doors. Prussia stared at him for a moment.

"You're grumpy," he said finally, sticking his tongue out at Romano. "I like your brother better."

"A lot of people do," Romano muttered.

"So, Feliciano," Spain started, turning to the younger brother sitting in the middle of the backseat. "What made you decide to go on this road trip?"

"_I_ was included in this process too!" Romano protested, reaching behind Feliciano to smash his hand in Spain's face before the older man got too close to his brother. Feliciano explained as if all was still well.

"Well, after just passing high school, Romano and I got accepted in the same university too. I was sort of spent after taking all those entrance exams and Romano didn't want to go to university that fast yet, so we decided we'd take a road trip to get some experience before starting collage…"

"Experience?" France asked, sounding suggestive. Prussia cackled and Romano smacked his seat. "Not that kind of experience, you perverts!"

"Anyway," Feliciano continued, not looking troubled in the least, "our parents are a complicated mess – our mother died when we were younger and our father travels a lot for his job. So our grandpa Rome takes care of us. Romano kind of takes his name from him."

"What's the story behind that?" France asked. "This Rome guy seems like our type."

Romano rolled his eyes. "He's named after one of the founders of the Roman Republic, Romulus. It's his nickname. Not like you people."

Feliciano pouted, turning to Romano. "Romano, I'm trying to tell them what happened to us! Anyway," he said again, turning back to Spain, who looked eager to hear the story, "we told our plans to Rome and he said it sounded like a good idea. Of course, he didn't go to university so he was okay with us not immediately starting out first year. So we packed up, rented a car since we only have one car and we didn't want to leave Grandpa Rome stranded at home until dad came home, and set off. Then, not even half way to the half way mark, the car stopped and the engine started smoking! Romano said it was dangerous so we left the car and stripped it of everything that belonged to us. I made the sign and we just waited for someone to come along."

France whistled. "What a story! But Feliciano, that's dangerous. You shouldn't accept rides from _anyone_. You two are so cute, there would be a lot of people willing to take advantage of your positions to do bad things to you!"

"And you three don't fall in that category?" Romano shot back.

"Of course not!"

Spain rested his arm on the back of the seat, as if he had the mind to put it around Feliciano's shoulders. "So where were you two thinking of going?"

"Around and about," Feliciano said vaguely. Spain chuckled, leaning in to study Feliciano's face. "Well, I think it was a good idea for you to go on this roadtrip."

Feliciano glanced at Romano, who was sitting away from them with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. "Oh, but Romano came up with the idea!" he said quickly, grabbing his brother's arm and pulling him closer. "My big brother's really the one who thinks of these things and he goes out of his way to make sure we're okay! So really, he's the one you guys should thank!"

"Don't say stupid things, Feli…" Romano trailed off as Spain cocked his head to study him as well. Feliciano watched the curious way Romano's face seemed to blossom a cute pink whenever Spain looked at him. His brother was pretty easy to read.

"S-stop staring at me, dammit!" Reaching out, Romano punched Spain on the cheek. "It's creepy!"

"Don't scare them, Spain," France chastised.

"They look almost the same," Spain mused, looking at both twins. "Except Feliciano's eyes are much softer and he smiles more and he makes you feel like taking care of him."

"Whoa there, Spain!" Prussia shouted from the front as he unwrapped a map. "Scouting out our territory, aren't we? What're we going to do with the other twin then? I don't want him!"

"Jackass," Romano snarled, reaching forward to slap Prussia upside the head. France laughed.

"I don't mind a bit of a struggle. I like the hard-to-get ones." Romano growled at that as well, and reached forward to slap him as well when Spain's hand shot out and grabbed his.

"Don't. France gets distracted easily and I don't want us all to end up in a ditch." Feliciano smiled to himself as he watched Romano's eyes wander from Spain's hand, which was holding his, to the man himself before pulling and turning away to hide his face.

"Don't say that, Prussia," Feliciano chimed up. "If no one takes Romano, _I'll_ take him."

This time, both France and Prussia whistled. "Twincest!" Prussia cheered, crumpling the map as a lost cause. "I like that!"

"Shut up, Feliciano!" Romano cried, putting a stranglehold on said twin, who giggled and whimpered at the same time.

"I'm sorry to break up this party," France announced, speeding forward (apparently their current speed, which was almost breakneck, wasn't the fastest the car could go?), "but it seems we've reached our destination. Little town, look out!"

--

"That was fun!" Feliciano collapsed on the motel room bed. The five had noisily ate dinner at a diner nearby and crashed at a cheap motel, where they rented two rooms for the night. Personally, the younger Vargas brother didn't know how France, Prussia, and Spain, who were bigger than they were, could share a small room with two beds. He would have offered to share their room, but he didn't think Romano could forgive him for that. "See? Aren't you glad we rode with the Bad Company Trio?"

"Don't encourage them," Romano groaned, sprawling on his bed. "They are the _worst_."

"Don't be like that!" Feliciano protested, sitting up. "France is a nice guy. He offered to give us a ride and he was super nice to us. Prussia is kind of loud, but I think he's a nice guy too. And Spain is nice too! I knew they were all nice people. And they haven't tried to do anything to us yet, so relax. I think if they were planning something like that, they would have done it already."

"Maybe," Romano grumbled, still looking upset.

"Why? What do you think of them?"

Romano glared at his brother. "If you really want to know," he announced, crossing his arms, "I think France is a big pervert. He calls us 'sweeties' and he hits on anyone who moves. Didn't you see him feel up the waitress? He would have done the same to you too, if I didn't pull you away at the last second! And Prussia is such a rude bastard. He may act all nice to you, but he calls me names and he likes to tease me. What a jerk.

"And Spain is the worst. It's obviously he doesn't like me at all. He looks at me like he feels sorry for me and I hate people who do that. And he smiles all the time! It just pisses me off! I hate him the most."

Feliciano cocked his head before jumping onto Romano's bed ("Oy, idiot!"). "Is that _really_ what you think of him, Romano?" he asked innocently. Romano's face flushed red again.

"_Yes_. I hate him so much. But you shouldn't be so upset about something like that, Feliciano. He _loves you_." Romano's frown seemed to intensify and Feliciano threw his arms around his brother in comfort.

"If it makes you feel better," Feliciano said, murmuring into Romano's ear, "I don't like Spain like that." He felt Romano relax slightly in his grip. "So please don't be mad at me."

"I never said I was mad at you, you idiot. Why should I care if Spain likes you, dammit? That's good, cause then he won't bother me at all!" Shoving Feliciano off him, Romano glared at his brother, before letting a small smile poke through his negative exterior. _Thanks_, he mouthed to keep from actually saying the word. Feliciano smiled, before glomping his brother and showering his face with affectionate kisses.

"_Get off, you bastard_!"

--

"Can you hear anything?"

Prussia pressed his ear against the wall, straining his hearing before sighing and shaking his head. "I can't hear a thing. Either they're sleeping already or these walls are ungodly thick." Sliding back down on the bed, Prussia grinned. He had good reason to do so; in their rock-paper-scissors to decide who would have a bed all to himself, he had won, leaving France and Spain to try and find a comfortable space to sleep in their tiny bed they would be sharing. "But that's a good thing too. They won't be able to hear what we have to say. So I'll ask this, first of all! Which of the twins would you like to fuck?"

"Language!" France gasped, in mock horror. Prussia cackled, obviously pleased with his question.

"As for me," the albino said proudly, slapping a hand on his chest, "I wouldn't mind getting into Romano's hot and bothered pants."

"Really?" Spain raised an eyebrow. "You were teasing him all through the day."

"So? I'd still like to do it."

France laughed. "You think he'd let you do it? He was practically threatening you with arson before we separated into our rooms."

"I doubt he'll be complaining much when I…"

"_Stop_," France warned, although he looked on the verge of laughing. "No one wants to hear that." The dirty blonde (in more ways than one) turned to Spain. "But I can guess who Spain would choose. Little Feliciano, right?"

"Yes!" Spain's face lit up and Prussia covered his face ("The light! _The light!_"). "Romano's okay, I guess, but Feliciano's really cute, don't you two agree? I think I like him a lot."

"Yeah, but he's nothing," Prussia countered. "He'd leap into bed with you in a second. Romano wouldn't go down without a broken bone."

"Masochist."

"Shut up, France. What about you?"

France pondered this. "I'm going to have to settle on Feliciano. As much as I would love to subdue Romano myself, I think it would be a lot more fun with the little brother."

"Ha!" Prussia pumped an arm in the air. "You two can duke it out while you sleep! I have a good-to-go sign and I'm taking that and flying!"

"Relax," France said, smiling slightly. "Although I'm not sure about Feliciano, I'm pretty sure your sweet little Romano's got his eyes on someone else already."

Both Prussia and Spain stared at him. "Who?!" Prussia shouted.

France grinned mischievously. "I'm not telling! But please, there's not much competition."

Prussia stared at him. "You!" he shouted, pointing accusingly at France. "Or you!" he shouted again, moving his finger to Spain. "Or maybe you're just screwing with me! Or it's me!" Prussia pointed at himself. Smiling proudly to himself as if Romano had already confessed to him, he slipped under the covers. "Sweet dreams, suckers!"

"Night, Prussia," Spain and France replied at the same time. They had since gotten used to these self-centered outbursts that made Prussia who he was. It was sort of endearing…once you got used to them.

To be continued

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Note: Itacest? Ha. Shall I continue? Review, and I'll do so accordingly!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: --

**Minimal fluff 09!**

**--**

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 2

Breakfast had been a chaotic mess; the gang of five had decided to make it easier upon themselves (the diner had been a nasty, messy business) and eat the complimentary breakfast the motel served. Of course, this meant that when they left, there were eggs underfoot as Prussia thought it was a great idea to have a food fight, which meant there was waffle batter on the walls from Romano's counterattack, followed by a dropped waffle oven which Spain had held up to protect himself from flying eggs. Feliciano had been his usual butterfingers, breaking two dishes and three glasses. France's role in this morning episode was to usher them to safety before anyone got sued.

"That was fun," Feliciano said happily as they set off again, to escape the little town that had a price on their five heads already. Somehow in the clamor to get good seats (France had established he was the driver as Prussia would attempt to do wheelies and Spain would get distracted by even a speck of dust), Feliciano had landed in the passenger seat while his brother was sandwiched in the back by Prussia and Spain. The younger Vargas brother couldn't have planned it better himself.

"That was _not_ fun," Romano snarled, looking like complete evil as Prussia poked at him.

"Lighten up, sweet cheeks, we're just getting started!" France glanced at the older twin, shooting him a glare of epic proportions from the rearview mirror.

"I don't know why _I _couldn't drive," Romano continued, persisting in his bad mood.

"Maybe next time," France suggested, although he sounded wary in having anyone but his experienced hands behind the wheel. "And I thought it would be a good time for you to get to know Spain and Prussia! You guys didn't seem to hit it off yesterday."

"Right!" The way Prussia elongated the word made it quite clear it had been a topic of discussion once a pair of twins was not in earshot. "Yup, I really want to get to know Mr. Grumpy-Panties a lot more!"

"Goddamn kraut," Romano muttered. Spain looked slightly offended.

"That's not nice, Romano," the Spaniard scolded, and had it been anyone else, Feliciano was sure his brother would have reduced the speaker of such parental words to goo. But seeing as it was Spain, he stared in the mirror to see Romano sulking quietly to himself.

"So, um, France!" Feliciano said, in attempt to lighten up the atmosphere. "Yesterday, when we were putting our stuff in the back, we saw this bed thing in the trunk! What's that for?"

"I thought it was obvious," Prussia said suggestively from the back. "It's for when certain activities go from vertical to _horizontal_." As he said so, he reached over from behind to grope Romano's ass.

"Don't touch me!" From Romano's shriek, it was as if the elder Vargas was being murdered.

Prussia backtracked, looking hurt. "You don't like me, Romano?" he asked with mock sadness. "I'm going to have to find someone to make me feel better! Spain!" Climbing over the startled twin, Prussia seated himself on Spain's lap. The receiver of such attention didn't seem bothered in the slightest – in fact, if Feliciano noticed right, Spain actually looked curious as to what Prussia was going to do next.

"Spaain~" Prussia whined, watching Romano all the while. "Romano doesn't like me~"

"Why doesn't he like you?" Spain asked, sounding genuinely stumped.

"I don't know…" Prussia said, sounding a bit like a gossipy school girl as he wrapped his arms around Spain's neck. "Maybe I'm going too fast for him?"

"You're not going too fast," Spain assured, oblivious to the fact that Prussia was unusually close to him. "He just doesn't know you that well, I think."

"He doesn't know what I can do, then? Okay, I'll show him!" To prove his point, Prussia crossed the small space between him and his friend and engaged Spain in an open-mouthed deboggle of a kiss. Feliciano had to gasp himself; it was so sporadic. He watched as Romano's face turned as red as an apple…no, a red so pure it had to come from a tomato!

"_Prussia_!" Pulling the enthusiastic kisser off from a still oblivious looking Spain (no one could really have guessed anything had happened aside from the light flush scattered on his face), Romano threw Prussia back to his own seat. "Don't do that!" Spain was laughing and Feliciano kept his eyes on his brother, who glanced at the 'victim' of Prussia's advances. The younger Vargas turned to France, who seemed to be watching the same thing and they exchanged a silent, mutual agreement.

"It's because this van has carted us around since we could drive," France finally explained as Romano administered a tongue lashing at Prussia, who didn't seem regretful at all. "We figured we'd need it since Prussia would always leave places completely smashed and the backseat wasn't big enough for him to sprawl over. Sometimes we're so intoxicated that we have to spend a night in this baby."

"So it's sort of your wingman," Feliciano decided, running a hand on the dashboard.

"That's the way to put it."

Romano glared at his little brother from the back. Why was Feliciano and France getting along so well? He was supposed to be suffering like he was! God, what he wouldn't give to be in Feliciano's position…but that would mean that Spain had an opportunity to hit on his brother! If Spain and Feliciano switched places, he'd still be open from Prussia's gropes. He hated France so a switch between the albino annoyance and the perverted driver wouldn't make a difference. The only way, it seemed, was if he and his brother were in the front seats, but seeing as France was unable or unwilling to relinquish his position as head driver, he didn't see his future changing very much soon.

"_Stop touching me, Prussia_!"

--

"Next stop, the cute little city of Washington D.C, the home of the best Americana activities in the west," Spain read from the tourist packet they had swiped from the last town's general store. Romano was sitting facing him, his feet on the seat as his way of claiming a recently conquered part of the van. Prussia had been thrown in the back violently (causing the van to have bounced around a bit on the road) and the albino was currently staring lecherously at Romano from the mattress, making obscene gestures and loud lewd suggestions that fell on deaf ears.

"Um, so what would that mean?" Feliciano asked, a bit confused.

"It's a city dedicated to America, I suppose," Spain said, turning the booklet over in his hands in attempt to find an explanation. "So I guess it means we're headed for fast food, miscommunication, and cheesy reality shows."

"Not to mention excessive pride," France mused, driving past a huge flag pole with an equally huge American flag flapping in the breeze. There was a flashy sign next to it, proclaiming WELCOME TO WASHINGTON DC with little lights and a rodeo themed design. The sign was littered with 'Proud to be an America' stickers along with 'Support our Troops'.

"I think it's kind of cute," Feliciano piped up, pointing at the city looming ahead of them. It was a big, metropolitan type, with tall sky scrapers and taxis that littered the streets. Zooming past the urban district with houses sporting the same flag as the border, they soon entered the heart of the city, with people everywhere and signs proclaiming advertisements from the latest musical at the local theater to the typical Cola Coka.

"It's huge," Romano breathed, temporarily forgetting to be mad.

"Where are we going to find a place to stay in this place?" Spain asked, closing the booklet and throwing it in the back (it hit Prussia on the head but no one responded to his complaints and swears).

France didn't have an answer and didn't try to come up with one. Professionally maneuvering through the busy streets, he finally found a parking space so they could unwind and catch their breathes. It was a space in front of a hamburger joint with a big yellow W hanging over the door.

"Should we feed the meter?" Feliciano asked, pointing to said object next to them. France pretended he hadn't heard the question.

"What should we do next?" Prussia shouted, sounding actually intelligent for a moment.

There was a silence before France turned the car off and unstrapped his seatbelt. "Nothing else to do but ask for directions, eh?"

"Real men don't ask for directions," came Prussia's suggestion, which remained ignored. France left the car without a sound and Feliciano quickly followed him. Spain clamored out to follow Feliciano, with Romano in tow to keep them in check. Prussia tried to call them back but was forced to leave the van in order not to be caught by any cops enforcing the meter law. The five of them stood in front of the W place.

"I don't like it," France muttered, "but what choice do we have?"

"That smell _is _disgusting," Romano agreed, doing so with France for the first time.

"Then let's go in!" Prussia insisted, pushing the four of them into the building from behind. "We don't want to look like sketch characters just loitering outside a joint! How bad could it be?"

Answer: it could be really bad.

The interior was tacky with crazy, mismatched colors and an ungodly lighting. Traffic seemed slow at the moment, with one or two people sitting around eating. The furnishings seemed very medieval England with a fun color or two thrown around for a more friendly setting. The cashier at the front seemed to be reading a comic before starting at the entrance of the five and brightening up immediately.

"Hey, all! What's up? Welcome to WacDonalds! What can I get'cha?"

Feliciano, who seemed at home with such bubbly displays, leapt forward to intercept. "Hey! Listen, we're trying to find a place here to stay overnight! We're on this road trip and we're trying to see everything! So we'd like to stay here for a night or two but we don't have a lot of money so do you know where we can go?"

The blonde cashier paused, thinking for a moment. "Well…" he said slowly, "I can't get _that_ for you here, but I know a place you can go. I live in this apartment with my roommate nearby and there's enough space for…um…five to crash, I think. I don't think he'll mind. He'll be prissy about it for a night but it'll all blow over." He grinned and extended his hand. "Nice to meet you! I'm America!"

"You're _America_?" Romano asked, disbelieving. He had walked up to Feliciano, prompting the Bad Company Trio to collect at the counter as well. "You must be kidding."

"No way! I'm America, really!" Smiling with his blue eyes twinkling behind a pair of glasses, the youth realized their confusion. "Oh, sorry! I should have explained! My name's Alfred Jones, but everyone here calls me America. I'm a true-blood American and everyone says I personify the place, so that's my nickname! I hope it's not weird or anything, cause I don't care what you think!"

"That's great!" Feliciano cried. "I'm Feliciano, this is my brother Romano, and this is the Bad Company Trio! This is France, Spain, and Prussia!"

"Nice to meet you guys!" America's energy was catching and Prussia seemed to regain himself from the abusive car ride at Romano's hands.

"So America," Prussia started, "your roommate…is he good-looking?" He ignored the way Romano rolled his eyes and muttered, "Desperate." America flushed.

"Well…I…I wouldn't say _that_," he said quickly, shaking his head fervently. "I mean, well…Iggy's in a league of his own!"

"What is this ruckus at the front?" A figure walked from the back of the interior to scowl at America. He was dressed a bit nicer than America's cheap uniform and cap, but his clothing wasn't the first thing you noticed. In fact, Prussia put it perfectly himself as he burst out laughing and pointing.

"Bushy brows!" he cackled, before dissolving in uninterruptible laughter. Spain joined in, doubling over along with Prussia. The man's frown intensified and he directed his anger at America, who was smiling sheepishly at him.

"What do you think you're doing when you're supposed to be working?" the blonde scolded, but America quickly bowled over that insignificant fact.

"Hey, guess what, Iggy, these guys are gonna be crashing with us for a while. Hope you don't mind."

Iggy sputtered. "Not only are you shirking work, but you're giving house and home to random strangers? Honestly, I don't know why I put up with you. That's not happening. And anyway, we have a mass order on Tenth Street and you know as well as I do that the cooks aren't going to do anything and Peter's legs can't reach the pedals."

"Fine. But they're staying." America turned to the five, with Prussia and Spain holding on to each other as their laugh attack started to fade. "Guys, this is England. He's my roommate."

There was a silence as this introduction sank in and England sighed exasperatedly. "My _name_ isn't England, of course. It's Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. But this _prat_ here gave me this nickname and it's sticking." He glared obviously at America.

"Hey, hey, I don't think it's professional for a manager to be insulting an employee!"

"An employee is living with his manager? Saucy," France said, finally breaking his silence. Feliciano's hand fluttered to his mouth at this piece of gossip, accompanying France's package of scandal. "No wonder he's still got a job." England turned red.

"That's not…" he started, but America cut him off. "Well, actually, we met a while back before either of us took a job here. I just moved to this city at the beginning of the summer cause I go to the local university but I couldn't afford the rooms there! So what do I do, you ask? I went to the coffee shop near the university to see if I could scout out kids from the school to bunk with! And guess who I meet? England!" Grinning up a storm, America threw an arm around England, who looked possibly angrier. "Of course, he's being bitchy to the cashier there so I pay the extra charge and strike up a conversation. First thing I notice, he's got a Brit accent! Aren't they cool?"

"They're sexy," France agreed. At this point, Spain and Prussia had shut up enough to listen. England glared at France, who smiled seductively back.

"Anyway…so he says he's got a 'flat' a few blocks away so I ask, can he be nice enough to share it with a little ol' freshman like me? Well, then he goes off, saying that's utterly bullocks (not paraphrasing, like I would ever use that word), and that he's two years older than me and that age gap's a big problem. Well, lucky for him, I don't give a shit about age, and he could be fifty or whatever and I'd take the extra room! With _my_ charm, I got my way and now I'm temporarily crashing at his place. See? England's a nice guy, really, but you've got to get past his PMS side, which reigns almost all the time."

"Now that you're done blabbering your heart out," England growled, looking both angry and embarrassed at the same time, "you can take out this order. I believe it came from a cooperate building."

"I got it, I got it," America assured, taking the slip from England's hand. "Really, this stupid catering thing you've set up is killing me. I'm the only one doing it. Peter!" There was no answer before America called again. "Peter!! _Sealand_! Get yer ass up here!"

"Language," England hissed, but America's attention had wandered as a boy around fourteen or fifteen dashed up to the front breathlessly. "I heard you the first time, America!" he said, frowning. Prussia started again.

"Is he your lovechild or something, England?" he yowled, pointing at Peter's eyebrows.

"I know! You'd think, right? But no relation!" Peter looked at the little group lingering about the counter. "America, Iggy's here, so what's the big commotion with these guys?"

"Never you care, Sealand. You're going to be manning the counters, though. I've got a bike order."

Sealand pouted. "I hate taking orders up here. I'm too short to see too much over the cash register." Indeed, he was a rather small build teenager, with America towering over him and with England, who was as tall as the twins, a head and a half taller.

"Don't complain, Peter. I'll treat you with ice cream later to make up for it."

"So what's his name, Peter or Sealand?" Romano asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sealand!" America said, while the boy himself insisted, "Peter!" England sighed again, now a bit more exasperated.

"This boy's name is Peter, but Alfred, with his ability of making up nicknames, came up with Sealand since Peter is such a shrimp."

"I am _not_ a shrimp!" Sealand protested, stomping his foot. As this played out, America had taken the food to be delivered and strapped it to a bicycle leaning against the wall. "Well, I'm off!" he announced as if everyone cared. "See you later, Iggy." He leaned forward as if to kiss the manager on the cheek, but there was no contact and he rode off out of the building, leaving a blushing blonde in his wake.

"So whadda ya want?" Sealand asked.

--

Despite England's grumbling and griping, America showed the five up to the apartment. Leaving the Bad Company Trio's van in a blatantly 'No Parking' zone (neither America nor England owned a car in this busy city), they had taken the twins' luggage and heaved it up the elevator to the ninth floor of the building. America jabbered incessant pleasantries, ice breakers, and other insignificant small talk as they rode up, as he led them down the hall, and as he reached for his keys to unlock the door. At the moment, he was still patting down all his pockets, looking troubled but his mouth still on auto pilot.

"…and then I told Iggy, he should just forget the whole ordeal but he just gets all prissy at me again and…where are my keys?"

England sighed and pushed his way to the front as he had been bringing up their little group at the back. "You _wanker_, you forgot the keys on the counter this morning. If I didn't have to turn off the stove, which I remind you you left on, we would both be locked out." Reaching into pocket, England extracted the keys in question and unlocked the door.

"Well, if you _had_ it, why didn't you say so?" America asked. England silenced him with a look that clearly served as punishment as he led the stragglers into the apartment. "Our humble home. The room to the left is mine, the room to the right is Alfred's, the kitchen is to the left as well and the bathroom is the door that's closed."

"_Dude_!" Prussia shouted, abandoning the suitcases at the door as he obnoxiously leapt from the doorway onto the couch a few feet away. "You must be _rolling_ in dough to be able to afford a place like this!"

"I know, right?" America yelled, collapsing in the couch adjacent to Prussia. "The places here are so expensive and then Iggy shows me his place and I go, what are you, Will Gates or something? But it turns out Iggy here's got a family who's one of the off-sprouts of the Queen herself in London! You know, that big city on the island off the coast here!"

"So you've got royal blood?" Feliciano asked, pulling the suitcase along into the room with Romano taking one and Spain following suit. England sighed, a habit he seemed to have slipped in with so much direct contact with America.

"Yes, but Alfred exaggerates a lot. It's not as grand as it seems."

"So where should we put their stuff?" Spain asked. "Even though this place is big, there's only two rooms."

"I don't know. Alfred, you got us into his mess. You decide." Walking into the kitchen, England left the responsibilities (unwisely, he later realized) to America, who grinned.

"Well, I guess you could kick England out of his room and some of you can take that room…"

"Excuse me, if someone's to offer his room to these strangers, it would be you. And then where would you sleep?" England poked his head out of the kitchen to smirk triumphantly at America, who stared innocently back.

"I would sleep with you, of course," he replied, answering without surprise. England flushed and ducked back into the kitchen, shouting after him, "The room assignments stay. They can sleep in the living room."

"Okay then!" America clapped his hands. "Then you'll be staying here. Someone can sleep on each of the couches, and I think we can pull up a few sleeping bags. Oh, and someone can sleep in the easy chair, but it doesn't recline all the way."

The flat, the size of a floor of a typical house, seemed more crowded as the day went on. America had taken all his game systems (he seemed to own every single one in existence, from GameBox to YBox 2 and 3 and each handheld systems as well) to the living room to play with Prussia on the flat screen. Romano, who had seemed to have forgotten his grudge against the albino, sat between them, watching them play as Spain, Feliciano, and France talked to England.

"So how on earth did you get a job at the W?" France asked, stirring a sugar cube into the tea England made. "You don't strike me as the type to work at a fast food joint."

"Well, I didn't at first. I used to work at this bookstore near the university but they went bankrupt. By then, Alfred already got his job and he introduced me to the manager. So I got hired."

"But wouldn't you start as a low employee?" Feliciano asked. "You started later than America, but you're manager now? How does that work?"

"I've got a better work ethic than Alfred," England emphasized, shooting a glare at America's back.

"Yeah, Iggy's got an all-work-no-play method to him," America answered, mashing buttons to make the car on the screen shoot forward. They were playing a rather antique version of Bario Go-Cart with mediocre graphics. Prussia cackled as he shot a rocket at America's car.

"And Princess Apple pulls forward!" the albino cheered, steering his player past the finishing line for the win. America groaned.

"I win," Prussia gloated, before turning to Romano and quickly wrapping his arms around the twin's waist before the latter could notice. "Romano, why don't you reward me for winning?"

"In your dreams, bastard," Romano shot back, kneeing Prussia's vital regions. As the albino lay trembling on the floor, Romano grabbed his controller. "Hey, America, you got anything more violent?"

"Sure! I've got more war games than there have _been_ wars!"

"So England…" France started, putting his teacup down.

"It's Arthur. Don't call me by Alfred's stupid nicknames."

"Alright, Arthur…for someone in such control of his life…would you happen to be single?" France's flirtatious side was starting to show. England frowned.

"That is none of your business."

"Well, I happen to be single as well, my dear Arthur, and I know for a fact that you and Alfred aren't an item…" This made England blush and scowl at him. "So…I was just saying…maybe if you weren't attached to anyone, we could…you know…"

"Hey, let's not go there," America called, sounding a bit nervous. "Iggy doesn't like talking about that kind of stuff. I was chatting with this girl down in Chinatown from Vietnam and he basically chewed my head off that night about it."

"You were practically inviting her to your room," England spat. "I'm not having things like that happen in my flat if I'm paying the rent."

"Touchy," Romano muttered, inserting the game disk, although America had turned away from the television to watch England.

"She was an attractive girl, England!"

"Oh, much," he said sarcastically. The memory of the event seemed to piss him off. "And for your information, Francis, I _am_ single but I'm not interested in _your_ types." He crossed his arms and sat cross-legged facing France. "Sorry."

"I'm sure if you got to know me, dear, you wouldn't think so." France stood and started walking over to sit next to England when America seemed to activate his spider senses and leapt at the spot next to England, settling into the spot before France could sit. France looked amused before settling next to America.

"Why would you find it imperative to leap your fat arse next to me?" England asked, his face flashing quickly from relief to aggravation. America didn't seem to know himself and grinned idiotically.

Romano was left without someone to play with. Prussia was still curled on the floor, now apparently dozing off. "Oy, America, you were supposed to play with me!" Seeing as the blonde was now unbudging next to England, he turned to Spain with an anxious look. "Um…Spain, do you wanna play with me?"

"Oh, I was thinking of talking to…" He had been sitting next to Feliciano with the throwback almost-arm-around-the-shoulders technique and he had been thinking of furthering his cause when the younger twin shot up.

"I'll play with you, Romano!" Feliciano said quickly, darting over next to his brother. Spain, who seemed chained to Feliciano at all times of the day, stood to follow him.

"So you two," France said, observing England and America. "You two sure you guys aren't an item?"

"Positive!" Both were flushed and glaring daggers at each other. "Why would I want to go out with an irritable guy like Iggy?"

"Alfred's too obnoxious for me to be thinking about anything other than kicking his ass."

France smiled to himself. "If Arthur's nickname is England, America, why do you call him Iggy?"

"Oh! That!" America tore his eyes from England and turned to France. "Well, I call him England cause he's got his accent, but I was trying to shorten it so I was calling him Engy for a while before it became easier on the tongue to call him Iggy. That's it."

"It sounds more like a pet name than a nickname," France considered. America flushed red and England stood up abruptly and headed for his room.

"I'm not going to stay up and waste time with you brats if this is the subject you want to pursue," he said, pausing in the doorway. "Good night." Slamming the door behind him, America winced as if he had been slapped.

"We went too far?" France asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Naw, Iggy's like this all the time," America said, although he stared at the closed door with a troubled look.

"Ha! I killed you dead, Feliciano!"

"No fair, Romano! I got distracted by the fireworks!"

"Those aren't fireworks, idiot!"

All of a sudden, the room fell into complete darkness, as it had been night and all the lights were on. At first, there was no movement before there was a scuffle over to the kitchen. "Blackout?" France's voice asked through the black.

"I think so. Washington's got some problems with the power. You know, with all the people here." Switching on a flashlight, America caught Spain in the path, with both twins clutching at one of his sleeves. Romano pulled his hand away quickly.

"I got some flashlights, though," America assured them, turning on a few more flashlights before setting them around the room, light side facing the ceiling to give optimal light. "We also have some tea candles but England won't let me touch a match or lighter again after I almost burned the building down."

"It's almost like a sleepover, though," Feliciano said, ever the optimist. Prussia grumbled and turned over in his sleep.

"Hey, I know!" America leapt onto the couch across from France, finding no reason to sit next to the sophomore now that England was out of the picture. "We should play some sleepover games!"

"Like what?" Romano asked, his voice sounding testy ever since America had caught him holding on to Spain.

America's grin widened. "Truth and dare."

To be continued

--

Note: The Bad Company Trio van is basically Girls Gone Wild parts 2,5, and 7. Oh my! So many reviews on the first chapter! I don't think I've gotten that many for a first chapter before! So, obeying your requests, I am continuing this thing. I did not know there were a lot of Prussia/Romano fans out there. For your sake, I will write a bit of that, but keep in mind, I stated the pairings would be Prussia/everyone. Review, please!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: ---

**Minimal fluff 09!**

--

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 3

America's grin widened. "Truth and dare."

--

When the others showed no sign of recognition or reaction, America continued excitedly. "It'll be fun! We can find out things about each other we didn't know before! Don't worry about me; it's not like we're really going to see each other after this. It's just a game."

"That's true," France said slowly. "I can vouch for Spain and…Prussia's truthfulness if he is conscious enough for the game."

"And I know Romano better than anyone!" Feliciano chirped, leaping onto the couch next to America. "It sounds fun!"

Despite his brother's enthusiasm for the game, Romano did not share the sediments. Truth and dare ended in two, unattractive ways: one was to spill your darkest secrets or do things you wouldn't do even when drunk. He would like to retain his dignity and he still had things he didn't want to share outside the circle of himself and his brother. He had to put a stop to this. "It _does_ sound fun," he said slowly, turning to America. "So America, you wouldn't mind going first, then?"

"Shoot!"

"Fine. Truth or dare."

"Dare!"

Romano smirked. "I dare you to go give England a handjob right now."

France broke out in laughter as America flushed. "I can't do that!" the blonde protested, his face red hot. "England would kick me out and I've got nowhere else to go!"

"Is that your only excuse?" Romano mused, and America looked even more embarrassed. "So you cry uncle?"

"No way!"

"Then do the dare," Romano challenged, but America shook his head fervently. "Then you choose truth?"

"Fine."

"Alright. Do you like England as more than a friend?"

America crossed the room in record time, stopping at his door and turning around. "Well, would you look at the time! It's getting late and I've got school tomorrow! Sorry I couldn't stay up later but I've really got to be getting some shut-eye! Good night!" His voice had gotten unusually shrill as he slammed the door behind him loudly. There was a pause before England's bedroom door opened and the blonde poked his head out with a scowl.

"Alfred, you wanker, some of us are trying to _sleep_!" He slammed his door as well and they all turned to America's door. Feliciano seemed to be the only one disappointed that this game of back and forth did not continue.

"So shall we play anyway?" Spain asked, and Feliciano didn't have to turn around to know Romano was blushing wildly.

"I'm going to sleep too," Romano announced, snatching up a blanket that America had left out for them. Shoving France off, Romano settled on the couch, glaring at the remaining three. "If any of you wake me up, I'll rip every fiber of manhood away from you painfully, regardless of who you are." Turning his back on them with a huff, Romano joined Prussia in the world of unconsciousness.

The awake three watched the elder twin for a while. "He's such a handful," France ventured, testing the waters. When Romano didn't reply or attempt to murder him, the dirty blonde turned to Feliciano. "How can you deal with a brother like that?"

"Oh, Romano's not so bad," Feliciano insisted. "He may seem really mean and say bad things, but he's really a nice person inside. I like him a lot! He's always there for me when I need him." _Though that doesn't happen often_, Feliciano added in his head. France shrugged.

"Maybe so," he said. "Although he's cuter when his mouth's shut."

"Romano is kind of cute," Spain agreed. He seemed oblivious to France and Feliciano turning to look at him as he stared at Romano's back.

There was a silence before France sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, if everyone's going to sleep, I guess we should too. Feliciano, you can take the couch. Spain and I'll take a sleeping bag or something."

"You sure?" Feliciano asked.

"Sure! It looks better…more symmetric if the twins are on the couches. Don't mind us!" France and Spain both got up and went to examine the remaining sleeping bag, poking it as if it could come alive any moment. Feliciano watched them for a while before going to get the last blanket. He looked over at Romano, before deciding to risk it and peer over his shoulder. Romano's eyes were closed, but he hardly looked asleep with a focused look on his face. Feliciano giggled.

"Good night, Romano," he whispered, kissing his brother on the cheek before scampering away before he could sustain any bodily damage.

--

England hissed as the hot (no matter what America said, he always felt completely clean when his skin was raw red from the water) water hit his skin from the showerhead. He had forgotten the new guests that morning and left his room in a relative good mood when he realized he had to cross the crowded living room to get to the bathroom. The twins were sleeping in almost identical positions on the couches. Spain was curled up on the broken easy chair. Prussia was sprawled over the floor, his limbs scattered all over the place. England had to step over France, who made sleeping in a sleeping bag look dignified. He had an urge to kick the pervert in the face but that would mean he would waken him and he didn't want that flirt to catch him in the shower.

England had been so preoccupied in thinking destructive thoughts towards the five guests that he hadn't heard the door click and the sound of someone changing. It wasn't until Feliciano pulled back the shower curtain and climbed into the tub too did England finally notice he wasn't alone.

"W-what?!" England scampered to cover himself when he remembered he'd left his towel outside so it didn't get wet. Feliciano stared at him, completely naked, as if he had gone crazy. "What are you doing?" England finally succeeded in formulating a sentence but failed at sounding calm and in control.

"Taking a shower," Feliciano said innocently.

"But I'm here already!"

"So? Romano and I shower together all the time."

"That's different! You're brothers! Get out!"

Feliciano pouted but climbed out of the tub nonetheless. "That's mean. You're so cold. I went to the trouble of getting a towel and then I'm kicked out of the shower…" Regaining his composure, England mused that Feliciano probably meant no harm, but still! It wasn't every day he was joined in the shower by an equally naked man.

"So England," Feliciano started. England figured he had gotten dressed and was sitting on the toilet waiting his turn.

"It's Arthur," England reminded him, starting to lather his hair.

"But America says…"

"Never mind what Alfred says. My name is Arthur."

"Hmm." It sounded like another pout but Feliciano continued anyway. "So Arthur…I've got a question."

"Alright."

"What do you think of Amer…Alfred?"

England nearly swallowed a mouthful of shampoo. Shoving his head under the spray to remove the suds before he risked a stomach of soap, England waited until the shampoo was gone before he spoke. "W-what are you talking about, Feliciano?"

"I was just wondering. You guys are living together, so maybe…"

"That's not it at all!" England protested hotly. "Alfred…Alfred just happens to be living with me because I felt sorry for him! We're just friends at most! He's just an irritating, noisy freshman!"

"Eh…I don't think so. He seems like a nice guy," Feliciano insisted.

"Nice, maybe, but nice can be annoying."

"You think? Hmm…" Feliciano sounded thoughtfully. "Well, I don't think so," he repeated. "I like him a lot."

England's heart skipped a beat and he paused. "I don't know why you would," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "He's terribly high maintenance."

"Oh? And you can maintain him?"

England blushed, half of him grateful they had a shower curtain and not a glass wall. "W-what are you trying to make me say, Feliciano?!"

There was a knock at the door. "Iggy? Feliciano? Hey, don't do anything in there I wouldn't do!"

"Shut up, Alfred!"

The door opened. "Hey Feliciano," England heard America say cheerfully. "What're you doing in here?"

"I was waiting to take a shower," Feliciano replied, just as disgusting cheerfully. "I would have taken one with Arthur but he wouldn't let me."

America laughed. "Well, Iggy's never been one to do something like that. And what are you calling him by that boring name for? It's England!"

The door burst open again. "What're we call congregating in this joint for?" Prussia's obnoxiously loud voice shouted. It echoed off the tile walls and England winced. There was a yawn behind him that seemed to come from Spain. "Morning, Feliciano," the cheerful Spaniard greeted.

"We're watching England shower," America said. Before England could snap back, Prussia had gasped loudly and directed his next call to the living room. "_Oy_! It's the Iggy-Iggy peep show! Come now or regret it!"

"_Really_?!" France seemed to have been awake as he was at the door the next second. The next sound perplexed England, as it sounded as if a small comet had collided with one of the bodies lingering around the doorway.

"You…fucking…_douche_!" Ah, it had been Romano, and by the sounds of it, the older Vargas twin had tackled Prussia onto the floor. "I was trying to sleep, you bastard!" There was the unmistakable sound of the albino's laughter, along with the amused chuckles of the onwatchers. England was able to remember why he was so mad in the first place.

Poking his head out from the shower curtain, he gave a look that could stop engines. "You will all get out or you will _regret_ it."

The bathroom cleared in less than a blink, and Feliciano even left the towel to lie on the tiled floor. England sighed angrily as he turned off the water. America had always insisted a lock on the bathroom door was useless but it looked like he'd finally found his argument.

--

America ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily as he walked across campus with a seemingly carefree gait. He _though_ he did rather well on that biotech exam for someone who didn't study at all…the class itself was interesting, but given the circumstances of the recent days, he hadn't had much time to devote on studying.

"America!" Snapping out of his mini brooding by the sound of his name, America looked up to see Feliciano practically hopping up to him.

"Hey, Feliciano! What's wrong? Did something happen? Why are you here?" For a moment, all the worst things that could have happened rushed through America's mind but Feliciano shook his head.

"Nothing happened! We just wanted to see what your campus was like, that's all. France suggested it, really, when you two rushed out on us at breakfast."

"And you got on campus?" America asked, amused.

"Yeah! It was real easy. The guards at the front? Me and Romano still have our student from high school and we said we wanted to shadow the university! Romano said it wouldn't work, but I said we looked young enough for it to work! The Bad Company Trio walked on by and no one stopped us! So yeah, Romano and Prussia are at that little coffee shop near that big tree and Spain and France were coming with me to find you and England, but…I lost them." Feliciano's face fell for a moment, looking sullen. "But I found you!"

"That's good!" America grinned. "So are you guys going to stay around for the rest of the day?"

"Actually, we were planning on seeing the city a bit, but we wanted to find you guys to see if you could recommend anything for us."

"Hell!" America laughed. "If I'm going to recommend anything, I may as well go with you!"

"But don't you have class?"

"Screw that. I can miss a day for you guys. You won't be staying for long, right?" America sounded undoubtedly sure of himself and even Feliciano caught his mood. "So let's go find everyone else and go!"

England glanced at his watch as he left the humanities building. He still had about seven minutes before he would be considered late for his British Literary Book Club meeting (or Brit Lit, in university lingo), and it was enough for him to badger Alfred about actually going to class on time. He had just reached the middle of campus to intercept his idiot housemate from his biotech class when he noticed said blonde walking away with the unmistakable Feliciano. Stopping in his tracks, he found himself unable to answer some nagging questions: why on earth was Alfred not going to class and why on earth was he and Feliciano walking so close to each other – the latter being the one raging in his mind at the moment.

"Mmm, _cheri_, getting a little jealous?"

Startled, England nearly dropped all the books he was holding; in reply, he turned to glower at the one who had spoken these words and his mood worsened as he realized it was France, who was walking up to him. "What do you bloody mean by that?" he shot, trying to bore a hole in that annoying man's head with his eyes.

"You perfectly know what I bloody mean," France said, mocking his accent. "America and Feliciano look cute together, don't they?"

"No."

"Oh, of course not," France said, throwing his hands up in a 'silly-me' gesture. "I forgot…it completely slipped my mind that _you two_ are the ones that look cute together, isn't it?"

England's face reddened and his green eyes burned through France's oblivious self. "That is ridiculous. Don't say such stupid things like that."

"True. Not only are you an anal bastard, but America is a manchild, so I guess you two are quite ugly together."

England threw all his textbooks at France, who merely dodged them with a laugh.

"Where are all your other irritating chums?" England grumbled, picking up his books from the grass. No one seemed worried to see a stranger on campus; in fact, they merely gave England and France a glance before hurrying on their way.

"Well, I don't know where Spain skipped off to, but you've seen Feliciano and Prussia and Romano are probably at each other's throats over at that cute café. Why are you so upset to see us? I'd think anyone whose life has been enhanced by such wonderful people such as ourselves would be more thankful."

"Thanks to you guys," England muttered under his breath, "my life has been a living hell."

France grinned, as if he hadn't heard that jab. "You want to follow Feliciano and America to the café or do you want to let them alone with each other?"

England seemed to weigh his options before soundlessly walking toward the café across the campus. "Just to make sure they don't cause any trouble on campus," England clarified as France caught up to him with an amused expression. "Not because I care what you wankers get up to, but I don't want to be held responsible for any unsightly behavior."

France laughed again. "Oh, Iggy. When will you ever admit your true feelings toward America?"

"What the hell about that? What is it about you idiots that you like to ask me about him? Like I told Feliciano, Alfred and I are friends at most!" England scoffed, holding his books closer before he lost control of himself and pummeled France with them. "You gits should keep your noses out of things that don't concern you."

"Ah…then this would be appropriate?" Snaking an arm around England's waist, France smirked to himself as he was immediately reprimanded with a thump from the numerous books England was holding. "But would it be okay with America did it?"

England sighed, stopping as they reached the doors of the café, and exerting great self control. "Can you please drop it? It's already irritating that he lives with me, but must you try and insert him into my thoughts when he's not even nearby?"

France shrugged, holding the door open for him. England breezed past him without so much as a 'thank-you' and scanned the room for the table. He found it without much trouble; it was the only table where an albino was both coming on to and being attacked by a twin. Pulling up a chair next to America, England's scowl worsened as he heard the conversation between Feliciano and his roommate.

"…and then we can probably cover the Freedom Statue…you know, that big green one that practically towers over the harbor? Yeah, and then we can go grab something to eat before going to…"

"Alfred," England said loudly, to be heard over the Prussia-Romano din as France pulled up a chair next to his albino friend. "You know you can't do that all in one night."

"I know," America said cheerily, smiling one hundred watts. "I'm showing them around this afternoon, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"This afternoon…as in after four o' clock?" England had to clarify, as classes didn't end until four and America was booked for the day.

"Eh…I was thinking about after coffee."

"That shouldn't be a problem, should it?" Feliciano asked, looking past America's shoulder to England with an equally friendly smile. England felt like smacking the younger twin.

"Actually that poses a slight problem," he said, forcing a smile on his face. "Alfred, in case your brain is too small to process such matters, I'll tell you: you've got class until four."

America pouted. "Iggy! So? They won't be here long! We were going to invite you too, you know!"

"I'm not going. And neither are you."

"Come off it," Prussia called across the table, pausing in his effort to grope Romano from under the table. "You're not his mother."

"Yeah! And Iggy, it's only for a day. I won't get that behind from missing a few classes. They're only here for a few days! It won't happen again." America sounded as if he were trying to convince a parent, putting on puppy eyes. "England, I won't ask for anything else, I won't refuse to do our laundry, I'll take you out for dinner once, I won't say you're stupid just because you've got unicorn boxers…!"

The table burst out in laughter as England flushed. "_Fine_," he said venomously, turning away before the pitiful blue eyes swallowed him whole. "But don't expect me to take the fall for you."

"No way! I'll say I'm sick! A hero doesn't make others suffer for him!" Grinning, he leaned into England. "Thank you," he added, before tearing himself away to continue his schedule with Feliciano. This time, even Romano had something to say about England's incredibly red face.

"You sure you don't want to come along?" the elder Vargas asked, sounding extremely condescending. He slapped Prussia's hand away from his pants.

England was about to burst into a spew of censorable profanities when Spain finally burst into the café, announcing to the whole building that he'd lost Feliciano and they'd better call the police. When he'd added that he was also being chased after by the campus police for being unable to produce acceptable identification, the hitchhiking five and America quickly disappeared from the café, leaving England to wonder if he should start any sort of relaxation activities if he was going to be continuingly plagued by such migraines.

--

"Vee, we're up so high!" Feliciano had run to the edge of the top of the Freedom Statue, a huge green statue sitting at the harbor, with a hollowed interior so visitors could ride up to the top to observe the city. Throwing his hands up, he attempted to fly, prompting Spain and Romano to scamper over to hold him down. Prussia followed with an amused smirk, surely ready to survive the sure throw Romano would guarantee if the albino so much as touched the older twin. France and America walked onto deck at their own pace, France certain that no one would _really_ be thrown over and America oblivious to the chances of that event happening.

"I haven't been here in a while," America confessed, staring up at the sky as the winds whipped up on the top of the statue. "I came here once as a kid and once when I got here for university."

"Where did you come from?"

America grinned. "To the west!" he announced, sounding like a voiceover. "The good ol' gunslinging west! I didn't think I would come here to the east coast to study, but somehow I got handed here. Weird, huh?"

What was weird was how quickly America had been able to guide them through the city, showing them every significant monument of the town worth seeing, along with eating the…less than mediocre food and jostling with the busy people in the subway. France swore that sometimes they had even left the city to see everything in the DC area, but he couldn't be sure.

By now, Feliciano had given up on his quest to fly and had settled down while animatedly discussing things and pointing out strange buildings to Spain, who was listening very focused. Romano was watching them from a distance away with a sour look on his face as Prussia teased him for being afraid of heights. Knowing he still had America's attention for a short span of time, France turned to the blonde, grinning aimlessly out at the skyline. "Hey, America, do you like England?"

America's hands fluttered into the air in a sign of 'whoa-slow-down!' as his face reddened. "Whoa! What's with that kind of question out of the blue?"

"I was just wondering. He may be an obsessive maniac, but he seems to have a soft spot for you."

America seemed even more flustered. "I don't know what you're talking about, he's nothing like that. Haven't you seen him? He scolds me more than my mother. What would make you think I like him in any way like that?!"

France shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure I was in the clear so I could take him myself. Seeing as you don't seem to mind, I may…"

"Hey, that's not what I meant." America's look suddenly hardened. "I know, he's a self-obsessive jerkhead but you know…" America suddenly looked embarrassed. "I…like him a little bit."

France grinned triumphantly, thumping America on the back. "One of you was going to crack sooner or later," he explained, chuckling as America gave him a confused look.

"Don't get all excited about it, it doesn't _mean_ anything," America protested, giving France a look. "So I like England a little bit. So what? He doesn't like me back 'cause he's so uptight about ages and he doesn't like work relationships so it wouldn't work out anyway. Stop laughing about it! It's not funny." His face seemed to redden.

"But what if he _does_ like you a little bit back?" France asked.

America paused, thinking for a moment. "I like it like this," he said slowly, sounding as if to convince himself. "This way is much more easier to live with."

France shrugged, just when Feliciano leapt over, latching onto America as if they had been best friends for ages. "Okay, America, I'm a bit nauseous now. Can we do something else?"

"You're such a wimp," Romano scoffed, walking over with Prussia still poking him irritably.

"Sure thing! Why don't we go see a play over at the Playhouse? It's a big tourist area. Then we can go grab some dinner."

"Should we ask England to come with us?" Spain asked, looking eager to include everyone.

"Um…" France noticed America's discomfort over mentioning the junior's name, especially since he had admitted his feelings to someone already. "I think Iggy'll find something to do on his own. He doesn't like to get out like this often. I keep telling him to come out but he's just introverted, you know? And he doesn't like big packs like this. So it's okay." Again, he sounded as if he was trying to reassure himself.

The musical they saw was amusing in itself, with enough dirty humor to satisfy Prussia and enough romance for Feliciano to grip his brother and sigh. By the time they went out to find a place to eat with the limited funds remaining, Spain and Prussia were leaning against each other, singing how you can be as loud as you want when you're making love. Romano had purposely steered Feliciano away from joining. America was laughing, all embarrassment forgotten as he scanned the streets for a place they could eat before calling out suddenly. "Hey! Tony!"

Someone in the crowd around them turned and started toward them. America explained as his friend made his way through the crowded streets. "Hey, everyone, this is my friend, Tony. He's a freshman like me. Hey Tony!" The boy reached America and stared at the mob around his blonde friend. Tony was prematurely bald, with big wide eyes that seemed to take in everything in front of him. He was an uncanny shade of green, as if he was going to puke, but held himself up as if nothing was wrong.

"Hey, America," Tony said, with an almost unearthly tone to his voice, "who're all these guys?"

"They're my friends!" America announced, throwing his hand back to show his gallery of five. "They've been hitchhiking off each other and they're trying to see the world! So I gave them a place to stay."

"That fucking limey didn't say anything about it?"

"Oh, Iggy got over it."

"There's a frat party down at campus tonight. You going?"

America glanced at the five, who merely stared back at him. "Maybe," he said slowly. "Are a lot of people going?"

"Most of the student body. It's being held over at the Rushmore House."

America looked interested. "Those parties usually are a lot of fun…" He glanced back at the five again, as if weighing his options. Seeming to have read his mind, France spoke up from the back.

"Don't mind us, America. Go ahead. We'll find a place to eat ourselves. You've taken us around enough today."

"If you say so!" America cheered, needing no more convincing. "A frat party! I've always been telling Iggy he's got to go to one of those!" Reaching for his cell phone, America made to call England when Tony shot out and grabbed his arm with a rather murderous look on his face.

"I never said the limey could come with us," Tony said ominously. "He ain't invited."

America's face fell. "Are you sure?"

"Dead sure. He ain't coming or I'm fucking killing him." The animosity toward England from Tony was almost too obvious, even for thick-headed Spain. America shrugged and turned to his now abandoned posse.

"Uh…could you guys tell England I'll be home a little late? I've got this party to go to…" There was a unanimous agreement that England would be pretty pissed off to hear this but America quickly ducked into the mass of civilians with Tony to avoid being told off.

--

As previously predicted, England was livid when they returned to the apartment and had to explain why America had disappeared from their presence.

"It's a bloody school night!" the Brit raved, taking out his frustration on the Bad Company Trio, as the twins were cowering behind them. "You should have told him it was a stupid idea! Now look, you've let him go off with his stupid blokes and he'll whine to me tomorrow morning about how bad a hangover he has! Why didn't you tell him it was a stupid idea?"

"We couldn't stop him," Feliciano whimpered, clutching at his brother.

"Maybe if you came with us, you could have stopped himself yourself," Romano countered, although he was (almost) in the same position as his brother. It was obviously the wrong thing to say and England actually punched Prussia, who had been standing in front of Romano.

"No matter how I look at it, it's always your fault!" England yelled at no one in particular (Prussia griped about his supposedly broken chin but per usual, no one cared).

"Why don't you go drag him back?" Spain asked, looking a little nervous as he was next in line from Prussia. England was going in order, it seemed, as he turned with lightning speed and socked Spain in the cheek.

"I will _not_ be called his bloody girlfriend again!" he shouted. The twins gave identical shrieks, their shields destroyed, and they scampered to safety behind the broken easy chair. "Just because someone looks out for a friend, suddenly they're a clingy little girlfriend? Bullocks!"

Only France remained standing (Spain and Prussia huddled together on the floor, licking their wounds together). "Then what will you do?" he asked, braving the English storm. England turned on him, but seemed to have run out of energy or willpower, as he merely frowned.

"I'll wait for him as I always do."

And the night dragged on, Prussia raiding the fridge for his midnight snack with Feliciano ready to cook an actual meal, never mind they had already eaten dinner. The five stayed a respective distance from England, still glowering over his apparent loss as he sat in the easy chair, reading a book. By the time midnight rolled around, Feliciano's super charge had died down and he was dozing off on the couch, his brother next to him with his arms draped around the former. Prussia and Spain had been wearing out the YBox until the Spaniard gave a huge yawn and suddenly those two were out as well. England feared being alone with France until he realized that the blonde had been sleeping for a while in an upright position. He couldn't resist the chance and chucked the book across the room, hitting the perverted man square on the forehead and laughing when said injured man slumped down on the couch.

A soft sound startled England and he found Feliciano sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "Vee, England," the twin murmured, trying to get more than half-awake.

"It's…" England closed his mouth. He could try all he liked, but the nickname America gave him was sticking.

"Is America back yet?"

"No," England replied, in the same quiet voice. It was already one-thirty and he felt his eyelids grow heavy but he couldn't go sleep until America came through that door.

"Why aren't you asleep yet, England?" Feliciano blinked, his eyes more closed than not. "Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"Yes, but I've got to wait for Alfred."

"Why?"

"To make sure he's okay!" England bit his lip as this left his lips. He hadn't wanted to sound that concerned. "He's a fearless, arrogant brat but someone's got to try and keep him in line." He watched as Feliciano looked back, still in sleep mode. "I worry about him constantly, you know," England admitted, grateful it was dark and he didn't have to see Feliciano very clearly. "He's the one who does most of the bike orders and I just sit in the back hoping he doesn't get run over by a car. He has the strangest friends, like that green Tony and they do all sorts of strange things. He thinks me trying to summon the dead is creepy? Hah!"

Feliciano nodded, although the movement was hardly noticeable. England rambled on. "I don't go to any of these frat parties America goes to. Bad things happen. I can't stop him, though. So I have to wait for him."

There was a silence. England seemed surprised that he had said all those things. "You called him America," Feliciano spoke up.

"What?"

"You called him America. You always call him Alfred, but you just called him America."

"Did I?" Instead of sounding angry or taking out anything else to throw, England actually seemed lost in thought.

"I think you should go to bed, England," Feliciano said truthfully. "America will be alright."

"What if he's not?" England asked, his voice deathly quiet.

Feliciano giggled, shifting so he didn't lean and wake his brother. "You're so cute when you like America," he teased, giggling again when England jumped as if pricked. "Go to bed," he said again, with more conviction. "Let America know how much you worry about him."

"But…"

Feliciano vaulted over the back of the couch, grabbing England and dragging him amidst heated protests to his room. "You are tired," Feliciano said, depositing England onto the bed. "You will change into your jammies and go to sleep until morning. You will yell at America tomorrow for getting drunk. That's what you'll do, England." Feliciano reached for his shirt, ready to take it off so he could slip England's sleeping clothes on when the blonde finally regained motion.

"I can change myself, thanks," he snapped, grabbing the shirt from Feliciano. He was slightly frazzled when the younger twin grinned at him.

"Don't worry about America, England," Feliciano assured him again. "And stay in this room or I'll glomp you back in here~!"

Sometimes those twins scared him, England thought to himself as he closed the door behind Feliciano and leaned against it to block anyone from entering as he slid off his pants. Feliciano seemed nice enough but of course, stepping into the shower together and stripping him hardly constituted as normal. Romano seemed better off in this field, if he didn't sound so psychopathic when dealing with that albino kid.

--

When America stumbled home around four in the morning, he was already dreading the tongue lashing he was sure to get from England, disregarding the fact they had guests. He was already fearing what the blonde would say as he clumsily rode the elevator up to their floor and was already formulating excuses as he tried for the fifth time to unlock the apartment door. When he finally stumbled over the mother lode, he grappled forward with his arms out. "I'm sorry, Iggy, I was juss…Tony saidd…"

Before he could slur out his planned speech, America noted that England was nowhere to be seen; the only one awake, it seemed was Romano, who was staring listlessly at a flickering television screen on mute. There were no lights on; just the glow of the television as it hit the insomniatic twin's face – it was almost like a scene from a horror movie and America cringed.

"You're back," Romano said, turning. His voice was icy and America knew he had contended with England before, but he'd never known the temper of a sleepy Romano Vargas. "Feliciano wanted me to stay up until you came back. So you're back. And I'm going to sleep. And hurt you painfully when I wake up in the morning." Romano yawned dramatically, cuddling down next to his brother. "Oh, and before I forget…" Looking sleepily at America while pointing at England's closed bedroom door, Romano opened his mouth to speak before collapsing. "Your booty call should know you're home."

Dazed, America ignored the television, still showing the silent teen drama Romano had been watching moments before, and made his way to England's room. England had gone to bed without him…which was a horrible sign. Bushy brows always stayed up to berate him when he came home from such outings, and he figured the beer on his breath and his wobbly steps were just some of the many things England was going to call him out on.

Opening the door soundlessly, America was only a bit surprised (his mind was humming since he finished that last cup of beer) that England was sprawled out on the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, America leaned up to England, wondering if he should wake the blonde or let him sleep on. As if the gods were against him, green eyes suddenly fluttered open and looked at him.

"You're awake," America murmured.

"And you're past curfew," England replied, still looking and sounding sleepy. America knew he was off the hook (for now at least) with that offhand tone and the fact England didn't seem to know what was going on yet.

"You always wait for me."

"Why should I wait for a lost cause?" It sounded like it carried a double meaning, but America wouldn't know. England spoke in riddles sometimes.

"Thank you for caring, anyway," America smiled, leaning forward so their noses touched. Perhaps sober, he wouldn't have dared this kind of contact, but…he wasn't. He pressed his lips against England's, feeling the warmth from his brain flood into his entire body and he wasn't very upset anymore.

England sighed, sending vibrations up America's mouth down to his throat. The latter decided he liked the feeling. England closed his eyes as they broke away, clearly flushed but trying not to show it. "Wanker."

"I'm drunk."

"I know. You should go to bed."

"I will."

"If you say you don't remember this, I'll kill you."

"I won't forget." There was a laugh, then a pause. "Night, Iggy."

"Good night, America."

--

As predicted, America woke up with a hangover and the intention of skipping school. England was about to drag his lazy, pajama-ed ass out the door to school when France waltzed into the kitchen.

"We're leaving," he said, and America sat up as if he had no hangover at all.

"So soon?" the blonde yelped. He jumped out of the seat and rushed out to the living room, where the remaining four sat around disinterestedly. The room was cleaned up, with the blankets, pillows, and sleeping bags folded neatly in the corner (courtesy of Feliciano and Spain) and the gaming systems sitting cleaned up under the television. It was as if no guests had visited the apartment. "Where're you guys going now?" America asked, the question directed as Feliciano, as Romano was beating Prussia with a pillow and Spain was busy staring at the younger twin.

"Um, we don't know yet, but we'll follow the road out of the city and see where that takes us!"

America frowned. "I though we'd have a few more days to have fun. You guys should have told me you were going today and I wouldn't have gone to Tony's party."

Feliciano shrugged.

Despite America's protests, the Bad Company Trio and the Vargas twins crowded into the van outside the apartment complex. England looked expressionless, which was a step up from the usual contempt he held around the group. America looked frantic for a moment before calling before France revved up the engine.

"Wait! I was thinking about this last night. It's not fair that the Bad Touch Company's got country names, so I came up with names for the twins too!" At the mention of them, Romano and Feliciano peeked out the window.

"See," America said, attempting to look intelligent through the headache he still had, "when I think about Romano, I think of the mafia, and the mafia lives in southern Italy. I was wondering what I could call Feliciano when I realized…they're twins and they've got a connection as a result of that! So Feliciano can be North Italy and Romano can be South Italy!"

There was a beat, before Romano burst out laughing. "You're out of your mind, America," Romano scoffed, before disappearing from view. Feliciano, however, looked thrilled.

"Thanks!" he called. "Now you can call me Italy!"

"Sure thing," America saluted. "And your car thing looks like it needs a name. Personally I named the bike I use at the W. I've called it Grand Canyon. And I think your car needs a name. I was thinking maybe…Euro? Because all your names are in Europe!"

"Pure genius there, America," England grumbled.

"I like it," France said. "And if you'll excuse us, Euro's got a long trip ahead of her."

"It's a her?" Prussia shouted. He had been exiled into the front from Romano, who decided he'd rather stand sitting with his brother and Spain in the back. "I was thinking of painting flames on it and I can't do that anymore!"

"You're not touching my car," France warned.

"Bye, America! Bye, England!" Feliciano had slid the side doors open and was waving maniacally as France started away from the curb. "Maybe we'll come back and visit you guys again!"

"Have a happy married life!" Prussia called. England, who had been waving half-hearted, sputtered as his face turned red and he stormed back into the building. America merely flushed and suddenly ran after the vehicle.

"Hey! If you see my brother, say hi to him for me! His name's Canada and he's in London right now! Okay?"

"Canada?" But before America could explain, the car was already speeding away, leaving the bespeckled blonde in the distance, still waving.

To be continued

--

Notes: For all those looking forward to a giggly time of Truth and Dare…sorry. It just wasn't going to happen. If you want a Hetalia sleepover fic, you can write one yourself. Subliminal UKItaly! Ha! The genius awards go to those who can figure out the musical they watched, though it should be obvious since I reference it often. I had to include Tony.

This was ridiculously long. I'm striving to write longer chapters, but as the summer is inching to a close, I'm not sure if that's a wise idea. I also wanted to wrap up the JOKER arc. Not sure where to go next…

Also, I love all your reviews, but it unnerves me when you say one chapter was better than the last! It gets me nervous…will this chapter be better than the last? It's like trying to outrun yourself. It makes me authorically self conscious. So please vent those feelings through something else. Like some nonsensical nonsense, or I'll have panic attacks writing the chapters.

Lastly, thanks for reading and bearing through with this long update! Reviews are needed, as I eat nothing but chips and drink air as I write. Sustenance is required.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: --

**Minimal fluff 09!**

**---**

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 4

"Hey!" Romano's voice followed him as he poked his head between France and Prussia. "France, you said I could drive next time."

A look of great reluctance crossed France's face as he gripped the wheel. They were only one hour out of DC and the promise he had made before had gone unforgotten. They were driving at a normal pace, as there were other cars on the freeway and he would never endanger his own life. Prussia turned to Romano.

"You can't drive," the albino put bluntly.

"I can so!"

"Romano, maybe you should wait until we get onto an emptier stretch of road." It seemed like a compromise from Feliciano, but it was also laced with a hint of fear. The younger twin tried to pull Romano back to the back seat but the elder Vargas slapped him away.

"Come on, France. I got my license. I passed, so how bad could I be?"

France took a deep breath. "You don't know how to drive Euro."

There was a silence. "I can't believe it," Romano said incredulously. "You're emotionally attached to your car."

"It's not an emotional attachment. I just look out for this car, since it's the only one we've got."

"Do you think I'd crash the car on purpose?" France didn't justify the question with an answer.

"Let him drive," Prussia said suddenly.

"Are you crazy?" France shot his friend a look. "You know how possessive I am over this car. I won't even let _you_ drive."

"Come on," Prussia urged. "I'll cover any damages this thing gets, okay?"

"I've got insurance," France retorted indignantly. His eyes were already straying from the road, trying to read Prussia's expression when Romano reminded him they were still driving with a loud, "_The road, you dumbass!_"

After minutes of threats from Romano and bribes from Prussia, the Euro finally pulled over for a pit stop, where France insisted he wasn't stopping to let Romano drive, but he really wanted to use the facilities. Romano was already standing impatiently next to the driver's side, waiting for everyone to clear out of the restrooms. Feliciano had to be dragged out, protesting that he really liked the décor and couldn't he admire it for a moment more before he died?

"Don't be a baby," Romano shot, as he slide into the driver's seat.

"Romano drives like a maniac," Feliciano whimpered in the back. He had strapped on the seatbelt and was holding the seat as if he were going to be forcefully extracted any moment now. Prussia grinned satisfactedly as he buckled up next to Romano.

Euro pulled out of the parking lot rather well and got back on the freeway without much fuss. France was starting to breathe again when the car suddenly shot forward as Romano merged into the fastest lane.

"We're in no rush!" the startled dirty blonde shouted from the back. Feliciano was already curling up, eyes closed and praying under his breath urgently. There was a scream that seemed to be a combination of everyone in the backseat as Romano swerved around a car to change lanes before ducking back to pass the red Bug that had been, in the older twin's opinion, "going too slow". Honks started to sound as Romano shot from lane to lane, trying to dodge accidents, accelerate, and make his way up the highway at the same time.

"This is crazier than when France drives!" Prussia's voice was a mixture of shock and appreciation.

"Just trying to get there faster," Romano muttered, gritting his teeth as he made a maneuver that made Spain cover his eyes. Leaving skid marks in his wake, Romano continued his daredevil drive before France finally resumed his senses.

"Alright! Romano, driving time is over!"

"But I'm just having fun!" Romano whined, turning the steering wheel ninety degrees.

"No more! Pull over and get out. I'm driving."

"Five more minutes?" The was an audible scream from the next car as Romano came dangerously close to shaving off the side mirror.

"You're a hazard on the road! Stop driving!"

"Fine." Sulkily, Romano removed his hands on the wheel, his foot still firmly glued to the gas pedal. There was another shriek as France dove forward, shoving Romano into a cackling Prussia as he regained the wheel. The car slowed considerably and other cars sped by, honking angrily and flipping the bird.

"That was awesome!" Prussia shouted, pumping his fist in the air from both the car ride and the fact that he had a lapful of Romano. Feliciano let out a loud breath of relief as he leaned back again, looking exhausted from fear. "I think I like you even more now, Romano." With a sneaky grin, he wrapped his arms around Romano's waist, pinning the twin in place.

"Fucking jerk," Romano snapped, slapping Prussia across the face hard.

France still looked frazzled, as if someone had skimmed some years off his life as one would skim oil from soup. "Romano," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "you are never allowed to drive Euro again."

"Like I'd ever want to! It doesn't go fast enough." Romano crossed his arms, trying to pretend that being in Prussia's lap wasn't going to get to him. "And besides, the first time we met you, you were going fast too."

"Yes, but there was no one around! I don't drive recklessly if I get people injured!"

"I didn't hurt anyone," Romano defended. He backhanded Prussia as the albino tried to nuzzle a lone curl that sprang out from his hair. "Get your hands off me, you pervert."

Daylight became scarce afterwards, turning quickly from late afternoon to evening, from evening to dusk. Gas was starting to also become a problem, as the gauge warned of emptiness and there was no gas station or motels in sight. They had seemed to have driven onto a part of the freeway between two big cities, where there is nothing between them but vast fields of forest.

The engine gave a sputter, and they totted along for a while before it sputtered again. France, anxious for Euro's wellbeing, pulled over to the side. The engine was seeming to convulse and France leaned out the window as Prussia popped the hood to take a look at it. He seemed to be the best at mechanics; France was the driver, Prussia was the mechanic, and Spain was a map reader. As Prussia was fiddling with some doodad on the engine, the lights gave a final spark before they dimmed and faded completely.

"Well, the battery's done," Prussia called from the darkness. There was no help to be expected on the freeway, as it was a open stretch of road. Romano sighed loudly in the car, painfully reminded how he and Feliciano had been stranded just only a few days ago.

"I think you killed my car," France said faintly in the driver's seat, turning to Romano.

"How are we gonna get help so late at night?" Spain asked. Italy, the best at making a fuss, was asleep on the mattress in the back, protected fiercely by Romano.

"Someone's just going to have to go down the road for help," Romano said, stating the obvious. Feliciano murmured in his sleep. There was a loud clattering as Prussia fiddled with the engine once more and France leapt out the car to make sure his baby was alright.

"This is ridiculous," Romano muttered, sliding open the door. "I'll go find help," he announced, walking past Prussia and France outside, staring at the broken engine with the scant light from the already set sun. Prussia was too absorbed in this challenge to properly take advantage of his opportunity, merely nodding as poked at the battery. France turned to Romano, before glancing back at the car.

"He shouldn't go alone," the driver said, as Romano started farther and farther away. "Spain, go with him."

"What about Feliciano?"

"We'll make sure no one molests him."

Spain nodded as he jumped out of the car and trotted to catch up to Romano, who seemed to be speedwalking his way to help. Cheerfully falling into step with the older twin, Spain effortlessly struck up a conversation. "So do you think we'll find anyone?"

"I don't know." Romano bit his lip, unseen in the darkness as he felt himself gravitate toward Spain. They should have brought a flashlight. There was nothing but the sound of their footfalls and the empty air around them.

"Hey, Romano, I got a question."

"Yeah?" He wasn't afraid of the darkness. Nope, he wasn't afraid at all. He was only reaching for Spain's sleeve because he was walking on uneven ground.

"Do you like Prussia?"

His efforts to grasp at Spain stopped. "What?" His walking stopped as well. "What are you talking about?"

Spain paused as well, noticing Romano had been staring at him incredulously. "Prussia. Do you like him?"

What kind of question was that? Was it a trick question? Romano felt his head race to find some sort of explanation. "No. He's incredibly annoying." He started walking again, searching to see if he had answered correctly. He was no longer feeling afraid of the darkness, his thoughts busying his mind. Why did Spain bring up Prussia all of a sudden?

"Well, that's too bad," Spain said, still cheerfully. It sounded as if he was trying to hide something, and he wasn't doing a good job at disguising it. Romano frowned, glaring at Spain in the darkness.

"What do you mean by that? Has he been talking about me?"

"Ah, no, why would you think that?"

"You liar! Tell me what he said!" Romano reached up and grabbed Spain's shoulder, trying to stop the man to make him talk but Spain just laughed. "Tell me, dammit!"

"I can't. It's a sacred friend vow I can't break."

"That's bullshit." Romano felt heat travel from his fingertips to his face and he instantly took his hand away. Spain was oblivious to everything, even whistling as they walked through the grass. There was a little path that went into the woods, and because Spain was spacey and didn't see the harm and Romano was too busy fretting with himself, neither saw the potential lapse of judgment involved with going down that route. As they ventured deeper into the forest, Romano tried again.

"So what does Prussia not want me to know?"

"Ah, nothing~"

"Hmph." Romano crossed his arms, pouting. "I'll just get my brother to tell me. You tell him everything anyway."

"I'll make Feliciano promise not to tell!"

"My brother's more loyal to me than to anyone…!" There was a snap in the trees nearby and Romano jumped, groping around in the darkness for Spain's arm and ending up with his hand, which he gripped tightly. Spain squeezed back, momentarily silent as he looked around.

"What was that?" Romano squeaked, his voice tensely high.

"Shh," Spain whispered, pulling Romano behind him. There were footsteps drawing close, steady steps that walked over twigs and leaves in their path, clearly meaning to be noticed. Romano's voice died in his throat as he pointed at the ground. There were a dozen pairs of glowing orbs floating off the ground.

"Hi," Spain called amiably, as if their lives were in no danger. "Listen, my friend and I are looking for a gas station and a place to stay for the night. We've got a car a while back with three more people and we'd love it if you could help us." The orbs circled their feet, as Romano pushed up against Spain, shivering.

A figure came out of the trees, a tall, dark body holding a shovel in one hand. The darkness revealed no notable features but the shovel did not go up and against their heads, and Romano was able to take a breath to avoid passing out.

"That can be arranged," a voice came from the body, speaking softly.

--

The engine was a lost cause, Prussia and France (regretfully) decided, and they had climbed back into the car and woken Feliciano to tell him of the situation. The younger Vargas jumped straight to the point. "Where's Romano?"

Prussia glanced at France. "He went with Spain to get help. They should be back soon." They had switched on a flashlight they found and were using it as their only light source. Of course, this was already teetering on oblivion as well, as the batteries were also dying and the light was starting to flicker.

Feliciano breathed a sigh of relief. "If he's with Spain, then it should be okay." France nodded knowingly. Prussia frowned, confused as he looked back and forth from France to a reassured Feliciano.

There was suddenly a loud pounding against the side of the van and Feliciano jumped to open the door, despite Prussia's loud yelp. Romano was bathed in the soft glow of the flashlight and pulled Feliciano out of the car, looking frantic. "Feliciano!" his brother shouted, "it's Spain! You've got to come with me!"

"Okay!" Feliciano said, jumping to attention and rushing forth with Romano, who was pulling his arm. Prussia leapt out and ran to catch up with him, as France grabbed the flashlight and locked up the Euro, being the only one with a rational mind. He finally fell in step with them, a few yards from the dirt path and darted in front of Romano, stopping the little group.

"Stop!" France ordered. "Romano, tell us what happened."

"I don't know!" the older twin yelled, still clutching at Feliciano, a reversal of their usual roles. "Me and Spain were going through this path to find help…"

"That thing looks sketch," Prussia remarked, cocking his head to look at the path.

"Then as we were walking, this guy came out of no where with a shovel and Spain was stupid, he explained what happened to us and the guy told us to follow him. I didn't think it was a good idea but Spain thought it was okay, so I told the guy we had to go back to the van to make sure we all agreed on it and he said if I wanted to go, I could go, but Spain was coming with him! I think he's keeping Spain for collateral!"

"He could be a serial killer hiding in the woods," Prussia mused. Feliciano looked at his brother, looking more frightened than he ever saw him. France shook his head.

"I think we should call for help," France said, reaching in his pocket for a cell phone.

"Shouldn't we go help Spain first?" Romano asked.

"It's too dangerous," France replied, blinking at the phone. "I don't have a lot of service out here, but I have a bar and it should be enough to call for the police…"

"I don't think we should be wasting time!" Romano pulled at his twin, as Prussia stood at the entrance of the path, as if trying to see through the darkness for some light. "What if something happens to Spain…?"

Feliciano reached over and gave Romano a squeeze on the shoulder. "Romano and I are going to find Spain," he said, his voice surprisingly clear. "France, you can stay here and wait for help, but we've got find Spain. Prussia, you coming?"

"Sure am!" the albino called. "I wanna see this serial killer myself!"

"This is jumping into things," France warned, clapping his phone shut as the service disappeared. "We should at least wait until there's a little bit of light."

"We're going," Feliciano defended, taking Romano's side. The twins stared determinedly at France, who shrugged and shook his head. Prussia whooped as they started down the path, walking a few steps in front and making annoying machine gun sounds.

"About how far were you two when the guy appeared?" Feliciano asked, trying to calm his quivering brother.

"A bit more…but then there were lights…glowing lights at his feet…"

"It was the devil!" Prussia shouted. "You guys met the devil and he took Spain's soul to hell! Now we're going to enter into the very flames to save him! Does anyone have a holy sword?"

France, who had been holding the flashlight, cursed as the light flickered once more and went out. They were plunged in darkness and even Prussia stopped in his footsteps.

Then there was a trotting sound, the sound of clogs or large sandals, running down the path toward them. Romano whimpered and Feliciano hugged him close, biting his lip. France watched cautiously as Prussia took a step back, shielding the twins. At once, a light bounded down the path, coming from a lone lantern as the person rushed to meet them. The person was wearing white shrine robes, tied at the waist by a blue sash. He was wearing geta, the shoes clomping loudly against the hardened dirt path. The lantern was rocking back and forth in his hand as he held it up to see the path. Spotting them, the person came to a stop in front of them, bowing slightly. "Good evening. Would one of you happen to be Romano Vargas?"

"Where's Spain?" Romano asked, his grip on Feliciano tightening.

"Please accept my apologies." The young man, really around the twins' age, bowed again. "My friend should have been more clear about his intentions. I'm sure all of you are worried about your friend. Please follow me. My name is Kiku Honda." He turned on his heels and started down the path again the way he came, the lantern lighting up the road. Prussia turned back to the others before following him, with the twins behind him and France bringing up the back.

"Where are we going?" France called.

"It's not too far," Kiku said pleasantly. "There's a small town at the end of this road. That's where your friend is. I apologize again for worrying you. When Hercules came back with your friend, Spain I believe he introduced himself as, and told me he'd let a boy run off, I was scared that you might have gotten the wrong idea. Spain is completely safe and sound and he's been waiting for you."

"So you're not the devil or a serial killer?" Prussia asked, disappointment apparent in his voice.

"I'm sorry, but we are neither." There was faint amusement in Kiku's voice as he led closer to the village.

The village happened to be a dark collection of little buildings, some of which looked uninhabited. There was a little sign on the path, but it was too dark to read. As Kiku led them through the little town, it became more apparent that the style was not modern; in fact, it seemed off the page of a history textbook, but the houses were as bizarre as the situation: each house was from a different nationality and a different era. Passing by a wooden building with the sign 'Saloon', they came to a stop in front of a shrine-looking building from past days Japan.

"This plot of land is a national park," Kiku explained. "It's called the United Nations because it's a park that explores parts of each nation in the past eras. This part of the park is the buildings part, where you can come in to see how places looked long ago. The park is closed all year except for the summer, since it's a low budget park compared to the bigger, fancier parks, and the staff include mostly students still in school. Myself, I attend a nearby university but I have an internship here as a history major. I come from Japan, and I'm an exchange student, so I don't exactly have room and board. So the managers said I could tend to this part during the off seasons and more or less live here."

"I didn't know that was allowed," Prussia said, stepping into the shrine.

"Shoes off, please," Kiku reminded gently, and the albino kicked off his shoes as he stared up at the various gods on the platforms. "Now we're not supposed to have guests here that aren't authorized by the park, but I think we can make an exception."

"Where's Spain?" Romano asked again, peeling himself away from Feliciano now that there was no immediate danger. The pack was making their way to the back of the Shinto shrine.

"He's in the back," Kiku said easily, smiling at Romano. "You're rather worried about him, aren't you?"

"Well, I…" Romano sputtered, his face turning red as Feliciano giggled and latched onto his arm. Prussia was too busy poking around to hear anything, about to pick up an incense pot when Kiku called out again. Pouting, he went to the altar, staring up at the rope connected to the bell.

"I'll take you back to see him, then," Kiku said meekly, halting his questions. "Come along, sir."

"Sir?" Prussia beamed as if he had won the lottery. "There's no need to call me sir. Name's Prussia."

"You have unusual names," Kiku mused, taking them into a hidden space behind the altar. Pushing open a hidden door, he led them down a short hallway to a living space. It was merely a small living room with a television and a kotatsu; there was a small kitchen to the left, along with a bedroom. Sitting at the kotatsu, watching television, was Spain. He turned at their entrance.

"Hey! I thought you guys were never going to get here! What took you so long? Feliciano, are you alright?"

"I'm fine!"

"You idiot!" Romano, flushed a bright red, walked up to Spain and smacked him across the head. "You should never let yourself go off with a stranger! Do you know how worried I was for you?"

Spain blinked, rubbing his head awkwardly as he stared up at Romano. "You were worried about me?"

Romano turned away, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room. "Not exactly," he said slowly, crossing his arms. "But we've got to stick together, since we're such a small group."

Kiku smiled mildly, noticed by Feliciano, who giggled and pounced on the unsuspecting teen. "Kiku~! What about this Hercules kid you were talking about?"

Flushing with the contact, Kiku quickly got his bearings again, trying to politely push Feliciano away. "Um…yes. Hercules is a college graduate who works full time at the park. He usually lingers by the ruins section but he lives with me. He's right over there." Kiku gestured at a pile of what looked like clothing…except it moved.

What seemed to have been a pile of old clothing happened to be a human being covered with cats. Hercules sat up, rubbing his eyes as a couple of cats slinked off and started their prowl around the room. Romano noticed their eyes glowed whenever they wandered into the shadows. There was a shovel leaning against the wall. The cats were not dripping off the man easily, quickly disappearing into mysterious places. Hercules still looked tired, if not vacant.

"Hercules, these are the friends of the person you found."

"Hi," Hercules said, sounding airy. He picked Feliciano up by the collar and picked him off Kiku. The boy seemed embarrassed at the gesture, hurriedly fetching something to eat as Hercules sat down again, and the cats came.

"I got it," Prussia announced out of the blue, as everyone got situated at the kotatsu. Romano was sitting next to Feliciano, too flushed to dare sit next to Spain. "I've been thinking about it. America really had something going on with his naming tricks. But Hercules makes me think of Greek stories. Therefore, from now on, his name will be Greece!"

"You can't just arbitrarily give someone a name," Romano shot, looking for an outlet for his flusteredness.

"He doesn't seem to mind!" Prussia replied, gesturing toward Greece, who seemed to be falling asleep again. "And Kiku," he announced proudly, as Kiku came out holding a dish of oranges, "will be named Japan."

"That seems sort of rude to name someone after their nationality," Feliciano pointed out, looking troubled.

"It's completely fine," Japan said quickly. "Not a lot of people come around, so it's fine just to have guests."

France yawned, checking the time with a gold wristwatch. "We should be getting some sleep. We've got a lot to do tomorrow, with filling up the tank and jumpstarting the car. It's going to take a while to get back to Euro."

"We can use a park truck," Japan offered. "We ride in one all the time so no one will notice if we take it off grounds for a while. It's no problem at all."

"Still," France insisted, stretching. "I don't know about you all, but I'm tired."

"This place doesn't seem to fit all us," Spain noted, looking around. Indeed, they were all cramped around the kotatsu and there was hardly room for Greece to sleep with his cats. Japan nodded understandingly.

"There are other buildings. The beds are a little hard because they're usually just for show, but I'm sure you can manage on them. I have some spare blankets if you really need them." Japan smiled. "No one checks here around this time so you can turn on some of the lights. Just don't make a big fuss. We're not supposed to have you around, after all."

After another round of uprooting and leaving the shrine (Greece tagged along after it was apparent poor Japan wouldn't be able to carry so many blankets), the Bad Company Trio, the Italies, Japan, and Greece made their way to the closest, biggest building in the town. It happened to be a replica of a part of the beautiful palace of Versailles.

"How wonderfully appropriate," France approved, claiming an ornate room with a huge bed. "Italy, Romano, would you care to join me?"

"I don't mind," Feliciano chirped, obviously pleased at having his nickname used. Romano huffed, pulling his brother along until they found another empty room. Prussia had been dragged off by Spain before he could leap into bed with Romano, insisting that there was another room and they shouldn't bother the twins. Feliciano happily pointed this out when everyone was out of earshot but Romano instantly shot him down.

"He just didn't want Prussia to get his hands on _you_, that's it," Romano scoffed.

"Are you sure this is alright?" France asked Japan, who helped him peel back the untouched blankets on the bed. "I mean, after all, it's a national park…"

"We've got all fall to clean up any mess you make," Japan said cheerfully. "We've got no rush and the managers rarely check this place, we keep it in such good condition." He was still smiling to himself when France watched him.

"So you and Greece live together?"

"Hercules…ah, Greece, is it? Yes, we live together."

France smirked. "Well, I don't know, but I only saw one bedroom."

Japan flushed a red that matched the bedspread. "W-well, that is…we have a bed…but we also have a futon…but it's hardly as you say…Greece and I…we're just…" France chuckled.

"Oh, I understand."

Before Japan could stutter his way past another excuse, Greece ghosted into the room. "Is everything set?" he asked, seemingly absent from the tension in the room. "I saw the twins to bed and Spain and the white-haired guy have also been shown to their rooms." He stared curiously at Japan, who was still flushed. "Are you alright, Kiku?"

"It's Japan," France corrected, despite the fact he was at no liberty to do so. "And he's completely alright. He's just embarrassed of the fact that you two live together."

"Is that so?" Japan shook his head as Greece turned to him. "What's so bad about it?"

"Apparently," France said, enjoying the reactions he was getting, "he doesn't want to admit you two share a bed together."

"Um, excuse me…!"

"Well," Greece said finally, taking Japan's arm and guiding him gently to the door, "I _am_ the only one who can make him scream."

"I thought a shrine maiden was supposed to be pure," France laughed as Japan quickly pushed Greece out the door ("So undignified, Greece-san, you can't just say those things like that!"). "Good night, you two!"

"You can call us at any time if you need help," Japan said quickly, before disappearing from sight.

--

Romano fluffed the strange pillows at the head of the bed. They smelled strange, as if someone had once sprayed them with incense and stuck it in a barn for a few years. Feliciano was already lying on the bed as if he had been born on it. "Romano~" his brother cooed sickeningly, "wasn't today fun?"

"Hardly," Romano grouched, before bouncing onto the bed next to his brother. For a moment in time, both twins were in momentary peace with the world. Feeling a little slaphappy for some odd reason, Romano rolled onto his side, looking at his brother.

"Hey, Feliciano," Romano said excitedly, "do you think Spain sort of likes me? He came up to walk with me to find help. When that big guy…um, Greece, I think…came out of nowhere, he stood in front of me to protect me." Knowing he looked and sounded like a love struck preteen girl, Romano cleared his throat. "I don't know…what do you think?"

Feliciano studied his brother. "I don't know," he repeated slowly. "It doesn't sound like much…"

"What do you mean?" Romano's happy mood immediately disappeared. "You don't think that's enough?"

"It's not that…it's just…he'd have done it if it were anyone else, wouldn't he?"

"So you don't think he likes me." There was a note of finality in Romano's voice. "What's wrong, Feliciano? Do you like him?"

Feliciano's eyes widened. "No! No, that's not what I meant! Romano, you know I want you to be happy and everything, but I can't help it if he likes me…"

"No, I suppose you can't." Romano snatched up the pillow and blanket from his side of the bed. "Because, after all, he couldn't possibly like me when he likes you."

"That's not what I meant," Feliciano insisted. "I don't want you to chase after things you haven't proved and get hurt!" Damn, why couldn't have he played the good little brother and told Romano what he wanted to hear? He wasn't honest that way! "Romano, please don't be mad. I didn't mean it like that. You know I don't like Spain that way."

"Sure you don't," Romano said, walking over to the door, anger following him. "And I'm not your damn twin brother."

"Romano!" But Romano left, leaving nothing in his wake as he stormed off to find an empty room.

To be continued

--

Note: It's getting long. I had to stop myself. I have BOATLOADS of work to do as of late! I should NOT be writing fanfiction! Of course, do all you care? Of course not! All you worry about is me updating faster! But I'm doing my best. I had a bit of trouble with this chapter, with lack of ideas. I didn't know what pairing to introduce as I didn't want to introduce two big plots yet. Is this park thing a win? Yes? Review, please~!


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: ---

**Minimal fluff 09!**

--

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 5

France had been enjoying a rather peaceful dream of streaking when Feliciano burst into his room and leapt on the bed, startling him out painfully. Blinking sleep from his eyes while feeling unhealthily aroused for so early in the morning, he barely had time to register anything when Feliciano grabbed him. "France! Romano's missing!"

"What?" Shaking his head to get the grogginess away, France frowned. Feliciano was in a panic, on the verge of tears. "Explain."

"We…we had an argument last night…and he stormed off. I usually give him his space because he can get a little violent when he's mad…so I went to sleep and I thought he'd come back sometime! But I woke up and he was _gone_!"

"Relax, did you check any of the other rooms?"

Feliciano blinked the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "No."

"Then don't worry. Romano's probably in one of them. What did you two argue about that made him so mad? You two usually get along." France yawned, finally recovering from his dream and the sudden awakening. Slipping out of bed, he shuffled to the other side of the room to find his clothes. Feliciano didn't seem to find a problem being in the same room of a man wearing nothing but boxers as he totted along.

"Well…it's a sensitive subject."

"Such as?"

Feliciano shook his head. "I can't say. Romano would get mad at me."

France raised his eyebrows as he slipped his pants on. "So it was about Spain."

"No, it was nothing like that, it wasn't!" The way Feliciano was vehemently denying it meant the truth. "I mean, why would we suddenly talk about Spain? Why not all of you?"

"It's quite obvious your brother has a school girl crush on him," France almost chuckled, buttoning his shirt. "Anyone can see, even you. Prussia, of course, doesn't know anything since he and Spain are basically illiterate to reading the atmosphere. I was surprised you noticed."

Not seeing the blatant insult, Feliciano rushed on. "Romano was saying I liked Spain but it wasn't like that, I don't like Spain that way, I mean, he's a nice person but it's just…you know…you don't go around liking everyone who's nice to you. That would mean I would love a lot of people! I don't know!" Feliciano wailed, the epitome of brotherly angst. "I love Romano the most! I don't want him to be mad at me."

"You're unusually close to your brother," France noted, finally completely dressed as he made his way to the door. "He doesn't treat you too nicely."

"I know, but he's the only brother I've got. He can be really sweet! Did you know, that one year when the person I liked didn't give me anything for Valentine's Day, Romano went and bought some chocolate and gave it to me saying it was from that person?" Feliciano giggled, his face flushing significantly. "So I love, love, love Romano. So I don't want him to hate me, just like I don't want Spain to like me because it upsets Romano." Feliciano's face fell. "I'm sad," he said bluntly.

"Don't worry," France said, slinging an arm around the younger Vargas. The brotherly love was blinding. "Let's just worry about finding something to eat. I'm sure your brother's more resilient than that."

Spain stumbled out of a room, looking disoriented. He glanced at France, then at Feliciano, then at the arm connecting the two. Two and two made five and Spain grinned. "Good morning, you two! Did you just wake up? Feliciano, did you sleep well last night?"

"Okay, I guess." Feliciano shifted under France's arm. "But I can't find Romano."

"He should be alright," Spain said breezily. "I don't think he's wandered off somewhere. Oh, but talking about missing persons, I can't find Prussia. We were supposed to share a room but he went out to get a pillow and he never came back."

France and Feliciano shared a look.

"Did you hear where he went?" Feliciano asked, his voice a little faint.

"No. I was almost out by then. He was fussing around with our beds, saying they were too hard and too small and complaining about Romano and when he saw I wasn't really listening, he just went to get a pillow and he never came back. I fell asleep and when I woke up, he wasn't there. Did you two see him?"

"Romano!" Feliciano squealed, running from France's side down the hallway. "Romano! Where are you?"

"Why don't we go get Japan?" France said soundly. "If anyone knows this place the best, it would be him and Greece. We can't go around tearing the place apart if Japan knows better ways to find missing people."

Feliciano paused, turning with a look of pure anguish. "Then let's find Japan quick!"

The three easily found their way to the hidden passageway behind the altar and Feliciano barged into the living space. "Japan! Japan! We need your help!"

Greece ducked into the room from the bedroom area. "What's wrong?" he asked, distant-sounding as always as if his head was still in the clouds.

"Where's Japan?" Feliciano was friendly with everyone but he was a little intimidated by Greece's size; the man practically towered over him, although he was only a bit taller than Spain and France. But panic prevented him from scampering off for safety. "We need his expertise!"

"Kiku is predisposed at the moment," Greece replied, sounding a little embarrassed.

"What do you mean?" Feliciano asked, cocking his head with a frown.

"He can't walk."

"Did he have an accident? Did he _fall_?! Oh, Japan!" Feliciano was about to rush into the room when France grabbed his shoulder.

"I don't think he means that sort of disability," the group's pervert said smartly, smirking knowingly as Greece looked at him absentmindedly. "I didn't hear anything, though."

"The walls are soundproof."

"Eh?" This came from both Spain and Feliciano, who obviously had not traveled France's train of thought. Greece shrugged to himself before wandering off into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Feliciano seemed to be at a loss.

"W-what about Romano then?" the younger twin asked.

"God, Feliciano, I just have to walk down the street and I hear you screaming my name." The three turned as Romano walked through the door, clear as day as if he had only gone to the bathroom, rubbing his eyes free of sleep. Prussia was behind him, smiling a Cheshire cat smile. "Can't you be quiet for once?"

"Where were you?" Feliciano asked, his stomach doing a half flip. Rushing up to his brother and patting him down ("What the _hell_, you little idiot?!"), the younger twin made sure no harm had befallen his brother. "I was so worried about you! What if you'd gotten hurt?" Starting to blubber, Feliciano gripped his brother, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. "You dumb big brother!"

They were causing quite a scene; even Greece poked his head out of the kitchen to look. France noticed Prussia's perpetual smirk and noted it, reminding himself to ask the albino about it later. Spain looked hardly concerned, although there was a shadow of a frown on his face. Romano looked sheepish.

"I wouldn't get myself hurt, would I? You dumb ass." Patting his brother on the head like one would to a whimpering animal, Romano tried to pry Feliciano off.

"No one would have gotten near him when I was around," Prussia added, a secretive glint in his eye. Feliciano glanced at him – and for a split second, his face hardened into an uncharacteristic glare of epic proportions – before glomping Romano to the ground.

There was a quiet clearing of a throat and Japan made his appearance, looking a bit bedraggled but awake. "Is there something the matter?" he asked, noticing Feliciano practically straddling his twin.

"Everything was resolved," France said cheerfully. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Well, thank you. Yourself? Was there any problems last night?" Japan walked up to them from the room and the limp was only slightly noticeable.

"None, thank you for inquiring." Prussia and Spain stared at their friend, being strangely polite all of a sudden. "How about things on your end, Japan? Were there any problems _last night_?"

Flushing brightly again, Japan tried to grope his way out of an embarrassing situation. "I'm glad your stay was to your liking. We can start out straight away for your car, if you'd like."

"Euro!" Forgetting all sexual innuendos, France's mind returned to his beloved van. "We left her on the side of the road to die!"

"Technically she already died," Spain pointed out, watching as Feliciano nuzzled Romano on the floor like an overly affectionate and overly sized cat. Greece appeared again to offer food but France was busy trying to run off to his car again so after everyone was finished eating ("Come _on_, Prussia! Usually you stuff your face and when I finally need to see your show of gluttony, you fail me!"), France practically dragged everyone outside. Greece went to fetch a van.

"We never really got a good look at the place," Feliciano chirped, latched onto his daily position on Romano's arm. "Do you think Japan and Greece would mind if me and Romano walked around for a little bit?"

"I'll come with you, Feliciano," Spain said quickly, but Feliciano shook his head with a smile. "Nope! Brothers only, Spain!"

_Good,_ France thought to himself. _A private time to interrogate Prussia to see if his goal was accomplished_.

"Come on, Romano!" Pulling his protesting brother along, Feliciano dragged him along until they were out of earshot, a good three buildings between them and the Bad Company Trio. "Okay, Romano, I wanted to ask." The cheerful twin's face got serious as he turned to face his brother, the two of them still walking along to give the impression that no, a serious discussion was not underway. "What happened last night? Why did you come in with Prussia?"

Romano scoffed. "That's none of your business, Feliciano."

"Tell me." This was unusually strict, none of the pathetic, crying whining that his brother usually did. Romano was knocked a bit off guard.

"I didn't want to stay in the same building as you," Romano started slowly, as his brother listened with rapt attention. "So I was leaving when Prussia ran into me at the door. Being his usual annoying self, he wanted to know where I was going. I told him it was none of his damn business and went out but he followed me. I couldn't shake him off."

"Then what?"

"Well, I was tired, and I definitely wasn't going back. So I went into a random house and it happened to have one bedroom."

Feliciano's grip on Romano's arm tightened. "You didn't sleep with Prussia, did you?"

"Hell no! What kind of stupid suggestion is that, dammit? He wanted to, though. I told him I would knee him in the nads so he couldn't even do anything with them anymore if he touched me. He was sleeping on the floor when I fell asleep but he was next to me when I woke up."

"So nothing happened?"

"No."

Breathing (more like screaming) a sigh of relief, Feliciano hugged his twin. "You're still pure! Stay pure for Spain, okay~?" Noticing the angry expression starting to resurface, Feliciano broke away. "You're not still mad at me, are you?"

Romano sighed, sounding older than his years. "No, I guess I'm not." He wondered if he could have said that more scathingly, as his twin flung his arms around his neck, effectively choking him. "And get off me!"

Prussia was watching the twins as they walked away when two arms suddenly latched themselves around his neck. Trying to act as nonchalantly as possible, he glanced at France and Spain. "Yes?" he asked, his voice arrogantly sooty. "Can I help you two?"

"You can start by telling us what happened," Spain grinned, tightening his hold to that of a chokehold. "You and Romano suddenly came in this morning, so something must have happened."

"True, my dear Spain!" France agreed, fluttering his other hand up as if he was giving a dainty speech. "Prussia, of all the accomplishments you have made in your entire life (although they may not be many), this is one you _must_ tell us about."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Prussia retorted, feigning innocence.

"_C'_mon," Spain urged, putting on his signature puppy eyes that would have gotten any lady or Romano weak-kneed in instants. "Tell us!"

"I've got nothing to tell you," Prussia replied triumphantly. Spain broke into little bribes and lame threats but France considered another route.

"I see," he said slowly, a smile crossing his face. "Do you know what we have here, Spain? Prussia doesn't want to tell us anything because nothing happened! Romano must have rejected him so he came begging at his feet the whole night! I understand, Prussia, I would be too embarrassed to say something like that too."

"That didn't happen!" Prussia shouted. "I didn't have to whine."

"So what did happen?" France pressed. Prussia looked reluctant to say anything before finally caving, bringing his friends closer for a mini-meeting.

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you! Okay, so Spain wasn't listening to me when I was telling him of my plans to get in Romano's pants…"

"Why should I be interested in the first place?" Spain interrupted, looking mildly insulted. "Unless you were helping me with Italy, I'd let you do whatever you want."

"Whatever," Prussia said, waving his hand to dismiss the idea. "Anyway, so I stormed out of the room because I'm not going to be talking to someone who doesn't listen. I was going to find France and talk to him instead when I found Romano wandering around in the hallway near the door! So I say to myself, 'Score!' and I go up to him and ask him what's wrong. He says nothing, he's fine, I should go away. But what do I do? Right, the awesome thing, which is _not_ go away! He must have been overcome by my awesomeness because he didn't mind when I followed him out of the house! He even talked to me when he went into _another_ house!"

"What did you talk about?" France asked, sounding impatient for the details.

"Stupid stuff. He kept trying to talk about you, Spain, but it's probably because he feels sorry for you that you don't even amount to half the awesome factor of me. Oh, and you're being way too obvious about your little crush on Feliciano, because that's all Romano would talk about! He kept asking me if you liked him but I told him it was your business! Because who wants to think about you when you're about to score? No one, that is! So as I was saying…" Prussia was becoming a bit hyper recalling his experience.

"So then we find this room with this giant bed. It was like an in between a king size and a queen size. The sheets were kind of grainy, but I wasn't going to complain. Then I grabbed Romano and asked him if he was as ready to do this shit like I was. He was all coy and playing hard to get, glaring at me and saying what was I talking about? So I throw him on the bed and I'm about to leap on him when he jumps back up and pushes me against the wall, screaming something about rape. I don't want to be arrested based on a denial of attraction. I stopped and he said if I touched him, he'd rip my nuts out. I said, could I at least sleep in the same bed if I kept my hands off him? He said no, I had to sleep on the floor. So the floor I went."

"Whoa," Spain breathed, looking awed. "No one makes you do things you don't want to."

"He's been _whipped_," France added helpfully.

"Shut up!" Prussia cleared his throat. "But before we went to sleep, I asked if I could kiss him good night at least, and he was just glaring at me _but_!" Prussia thrust a finger in the air. "_But_ he didn't say _no_! So I walked up to him and I was going to kiss the daylights out of that boy but he turned away at the last second and I only got his cheek." Prussia sighed to himself, before perking up instantly. "But you should have seen him. He's rapeable when he blushes, I swear. If he didn't cause a fuss, I'd have had my way with him after that."

"Whoa," Spain said again, looking completely mystified as he sounded.

"_How_ cute?" France urged. They were both poised in front of Prussia, as if the verdict of life and death was going to be delivered by the albino. Indeed, France looked perched on the edge of a nosebleed.

"I don't know, maybe you don't have the same tastes as I do…but after I kissed him, his face got so red…like…like a…" Prussia groped for an adequate comparison.

"A tomato?" Spain suggested.

"Yes! Like a tomato! And he pulled the sheets up to his nose in the 'It's-my-first-time-be-gentle-with-me' sort of way! Oh, I'm getting turned on just by remembering it!"

"Are you sure?" France asked, cocking his head. "You're talking about foul-mouthed, violent _Romano_ looking like this?"

"I couldn't mistake Romano for Feliciano!"

"So what happened after that?" Spain demanded.

"Well…nothing. He sort of sulked after that, throwing insults at me until he was asleep. I on the other hand, pretended to be asleep but when I was sure he was out, I went over and slipped under the covers with him! Ingenious, right?! I sort of, kind of groped him but I didn't want to wake him up and I was sort of tired myself so I went to sleep and the next thing I know, I'm thrown out of the bed in the morning when Romano found me. And that's it." Prussia nodded significantly.

"That's amazing," Spain finished. "Does this mean you have a chance?"

"I hope!" Prussia grinned from ear to ear. "See, France?" he shot, turning to his friend. "See? I told you I had a chance! You were stupid when you said he was interested in someone else. Thanks for pulling my leg there!"

France decided not to feel insulted. "So you're trying to go all the way next time?' he asked instead.

"Hell yes!" Pumping his fist in the air, Prussia looked truly recharged. "Man, these Vargas twins, you can't just keep your hands off them, you know?"

"What are you guys talking about?" Feliciano asked, suddenly poking his head in the circle. The Bad Company Trio immediately dispersed, leaving the huddle and any evidence they were scheming any dirty plans. Romano stood behind his brother, looking suspicious.

"Nothing!" Spain said, very convincingly unconvincing.

"Only the dirtiest, most foul topics, of course," France said elegantly, as if he was discussing the weather.

"Like what? World hunger?" Feliciano's face fell. "World hunger makes me sad."

"Not getting any makes me sad," Prussia inserted, grinning wildly as Romano glared at him.

Just then, a forest green truck drove up the road, coming to a stop next to them. There was a faded logo on the car door, worn away by weather and age. The trunk, an open space with dried leaves here and there, housed a pair of jumper cables and a tank of gas. Greece was driving (not the wisest of decisions, the five realized together) and Japan leaned out of the passenger side.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, sounding as if he had done a heinous crime instead of just being late. "It's a small truck, so only three of you can fit in." There was only a small space next to Japan, and a small backseat that hardly looked able to fit a normal adult. "It'll only be a short drive, so you wouldn't be sitting in the trunk for a long time."

Prussia practically leapt in the trunk, like a captain boarding his vessel. "This is gonna be _awesome_!" he shouted to no one in particular. Spain climbed in next to him and they exchanged random war cries as they stood in the trunk.

"Can I sit next to you, Japan?" Feliciano cried, climbing into the passenger seat. "This is really exciting, isn't it?" He threw his arms around the startled teen, vigorously hugging the life out of him. "We should be best, best friends!"

"You hardly met," Romano grumbled, slinking into the back seat. France rubbed his hands together as he clamored in next to Romano, sneaking into the twin's personal space professionally. "Let's try and get to know each other, eh, Romano?"

As Romano kicked France in the gut, Greece leaned his head out slightly. "Sit down," he said airily as he stepped on the gas, sending the car forward. Prussia, who had been posing unsteadily, nearly fell on his face.

Euro was found safe and sound on the side of the road (France nuzzled it and cooed at it for a good ten minutes as Greece filled up the tank). After jumping the car, Greece returned to the truck and waited quietly, looking close to dozing off although it was still in the morning. Japan bowed again to the traveling five.

"We hope you enjoyed your stay and you come back soon," he said mechanically. Feliciano jumped him again.

"You gotta mean it!" the younger twin cried, attempting to suffocate Japan in a friendly fashion as Romano climbed into the Euro with Prussia in tow. "We're friends, right? So of course we'll come back!"

"T-that's good to hear," Japan struggled, trying to breathe. Feliciano grinned as he nuzzled his mouth next to Japan's ear.

"Have fun with Greece, okay?" he said, meaning it in the most innocent way possible although Japan's face heated up. "You guys are so cute!" Finally letting go of the breathless teen, Feliciano bound back between France and Spain. "Thanks for everything, Japan! You're awesome! Thank you, Greece!"

Greece merely waved.

"Thank you, dear," France agreed, leaning down to kiss Japan on the cheek as farewell and the boy's face heated again. "It was a pity you've been claimed by Greece or we could have had some fun times~!"

"Yeah, thanks!" Spain chimed in, oblivious to the increasingly sexual vibe coming from France. Japan bowed again, a sheepish yet genuine simile on his face.

"Good luck on your trip," he said helpfully. A strange glint entered his eye and he glanced at France. "Tell me what happens, okay?"

France, recognizing the perverted glint, was a bit taken aback but nodded nonetheless. "Sure will, Japan."

Euro started back on the highway again, with Feliciano hanging out the window again, his signature farewell to anyone, it seemed. "Bye, bye, Japan! I really loved the kotatsu! I'll come back and play with the kitties, okay?"

Japan waved before finally turning around to the truck. Greece was dozing off as Japan touched him and he blinked his eyes. "They're gone?" he asked groggily.

"Yes."

"They were interesting people," Greece mused, turning on the ignition. Japan smiled to himself, leaning back in the worn leather seats.

"They certainly were a troubled bunch," Japan said, unable to hide the happiness in his voice. "I would like to know what happens to the angry twin."

Greece had seen this side of Japan before, the one eager to play matchmaker and documentary director of any sort of relationship. He had learned not to question any sort of comment and he didn't, turning back on the road to head back to the park. Of course, Japan in his mood was happy too, and maybe he would be willing to continue his happy mood in more private places.

To be continued

--

Note: In my mind, Greece and Japan are uber perverts. Of course, Japan does a better job hiding it. I'm seriously entertaining the Prussia/Romano plot twists in my head…I'm sort of getting partial to that pairing. I don't think France is perverted enough! I debated if I should have done my Germany arc or my Canadian arc next, but Germany won out. So hopefully you'll look forward to that. I feel like this fic is starting to get long and windy. I want it to be refreshing, a fic that you all read after a long day and you unwind with it. Please tell me if I can do this better in any way. Review, please!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: ---

**Minimal fluff 09!**

--

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 6

Speeding down the highway had not been a problem. Eating the last of their snack reserves had not been a problem (Romano fought with Prussia near death for the last chip, although Spain ended up eating it while the two bickered). Refilling on gas and snacks had not been a problem (Feliciano charmed the clerk enough so they skimped on the bill for the snacks). Driving through the night had not been a problem (France was strangely awake the whole time although not a drop of coffee entered his bloodstream; he was the only awake as everyone else in Euro was out like a light). Entering a big city in the wee mornings was not a problem, as Romano was complaining about the stuffiness in Euro. Taking a bathroom break in a mall before finding a place to stay for the day was not a problem. However, meeting back at Euro became an issue, a big issue.

Feliciano was no where to be found.

--

"Where's Feliciano?" Romano asked, frowning as he crossed his hands. He was facing the Euro and the Bad Company Trio, who were standing around waiting as he was. "Did any of you ambush him?"

"There were only four urinals in that place!" Prussia shouted. "The stall was the land of the dead and Feliciano said he'd find another bathroom! That's the last time I saw him."

"So my brother's lost." There was a beat. "What the _hell_ you guys? How could you lose that idiot?"

"Feliciano doesn't just wander off, does he?" France asked, looking worried. Spain had already started walking a bit down the sidewalk, starting his search for the younger twin. "The mall was a big place, but there was hardly anyone there so we must have been able to bump into him."

"Let's go back and find him, idiots! What're you all just standing in the street for?" Romano's anger flared up again and he stormed back into the mall. It was the weekend and there was more and more people as the minutes ticked by. Having split up, the four congregated back in the middle of the mall, out of breath and no Feliciano.

"Where is he?" Romano yelled, a tone of fear creeping in his voice. "If anyone so much as touches him…!"

"He's nineteen, Romano," France reminded, although he was starting to look alarmed too. "He can take care of himself. I'm sure he'll wander out sometime."

"Feliciano!" Prussia shouted, his voice echoing in the space around them as shoppers glanced at him strangely. Spain was frowning before he suddenly started walking quickly toward a mall cop. After a brief conversation, the cop spoke into his walkie talkie and there was a moment of nothing before the loudspeaker blared,

_Attention shoppers! We are reporting a missing person, a Feliciano Vargas, aged nineteen. Notable features include brown hair, brown eyes, and a hair curl. If you are here, Feliciano, please speak to a mall officer._

The mall cop beckoned to them and the Bad Company Trio followed, with Romano leading. They were led to a restricted area of the mall, the security center. There was a dozing officer managing the security cameras and the mall cop, a burly man whose name tag read Franz, poked the cop awake. The security camera cop quickly pulled back footage of a few minutes ago and the four found Feliciano wandering around the food court. They followed the airheaded twin as he circled around before leaving the mall through a pair of doors on the other side of the building. Minutes past and the twin never reentered.

"Stupid idiot!" Romano exploded, throwing his hands up. "Now we've got to go through the city to find that brat! I'm going to kill him when I see him again, I swear." At this, Franz looked worried but France assured him all was well, thank you, and they scampered to Euro again.

"So where should we head?" France asked, starting the car.

"Feliciano's an idiot," Romano said. "He couldn't have gone far."

--

Feliciano hiccupped, looking nervously around him. He had _thought_ he left the mall the way he came…but Euro was nowhere to be found and he had wandered onto the streets. There were people rushing to the subway and he found himself getting lost in the crowds. Another big city, like Washington. He vaguely remembered the sign welcoming them in, blaring in big letters WELCOME TO BERLIN. If he remembered his geography right, Berlin was supposed to be an eastern city.

That was a big help.

"Romano," Feliciano whimpered, dodging a crowd of businessmen in suits rushing past him. "Romano…where are you?"

--

"We circled the mall twice," Prussia huffed. "Wherever Italy went, he's off the premises."

"I hope Feliciano is okay," Spain said, biting his lip. Romano glanced at him, a blank look crossing his face momentarily as he reached forward and slapped France aside the head.

"Come on, France, let's cover a wider area."

--

Okay, he'd thought he'd turned around and headed back to the mall, but now the mall was nowhere to be seen! He was lost! In a place he didn't know! Feliciano had promised himself that he would be strong, he wouldn't cry, he'd quickly find a police officer and ask him to help him find Romano and everyone again but as soon as the last word formed in his thoughts, he started bawling, thick tears coming down in streams from his eyes. Sobbing, he gravitated toward the inside of the sidewalk.

"Romano~" he wailed to himself. "Help me, Romano…"

In his self induced panic and pity party, he walked smack dab into someone, momentarily startling him out of his tears. Trying to blink the water from his eyes so he could see clearly, Feliciano opened his mouth to apologize and his heart leapt from his chest to his mouth.

"Excuse me," the man said awkwardly, looking as if he were about to step around Feliciano to walk around him but thought better of it as the twin was still crying in front of him. He was imposing, a head taller than Feliciano, with blonde hair slicked back, giving him the look of a strict, specific person. He looked older with a dress shirt and nice pants, although the backpack gave him away as a college student. Feliciano felt his heart beat faster.

"H-hi," Feliciano found the words topple out of his mouth. The fear that had taken him came back and he flung his arms around the stranger. "Help me! I'm lost!"

The man stiffened, a statue as the brunette hugged him. Reassurance was not one of his strong points and he found himself at a loss as this person cried a pond into his shoulder. He was already late for his first period class, and now he would definitely be late. But he couldn't just abandon this person crying on the side of the street; it would leave a bad taste in his mouth. But he couldn't take him along to class either.

Taking a deep breath, Ludwig put an awkward hand on the boy's back. "Let's get back to my place and you can explain everything there."

--

France was getting sort of dizzy, driving in widening circles encompassing blocks after blocks. But if they caught a spot of brown hair, it would always turn out to be a woman in a tight updo or a teenager skipping school to smoke pot. Romano was pretending not to show he was actually very anxious about losing his brother.

"Say, Prussia," Spain said suddenly. "Your brother's attending university in Berlin, isn't he?"

"You're right!" Prussia's eyes lit up. "We could find that little bro of mine and he could help us around, since he'd know the place better than I do!" There was a second when Prussia's face fell. "But I haven't been in touch with him for a year and I don't know where he lives. Last time I spoke with him, he found an apartment in the city."

"Great," Romano said, his missing brother no excuse for him to loose his sarcasm, "there's not only one Prussia I've got to deal with, but two?"

"Oh, Germany's not like Prussia at all," Spain assured, grinning. "In fact, he's the opposite."

"We could check in at the university," France suggested, glancing at his watch. "We barged in America's college, so I'm sure we could just barge into his class and demand he leave with us. And anyway, Prussia, you're his brother."

"That's a good idea," Prussia said. "If I could remember what college he attended."

--

Ludwig watched in amazement as Feliciano went from crying by himself on the couch to wandering around the apartment, touching everything he could get his hands on. "Oh! This is really cute!" Turning around, Feliciano put the cuckoo clock back on its platform. "Um! Ludwig…"

"What?"

Feliciano shrank back. He was sort of getting used to Ludwig, but he wasn't used to a voice that sounded like it was snapping at you all the time. Ludwig was scary. That must have been why his heart was running rampant around his chest, making him feel a bit faint. He had the same experience when some bullies in middle school cornered him until Romano came out of nowhere and pulled him away. Romano!

"I need to find my brother," Feliciano said slowly. "Me and my twin brother came here with three of our friends as a roadtrip and I've got to find them."

Ludwig sighed. He wasn't going to class, that was final. He'd already gone out of character, bringing home a person like this. He'd never broken his schedule like this. He'd have to be exact to make sure everything went back as planned. "Do you know where your brother was heading in Berlin?"

Feliciano shook his head. "It's a roadtrip!" he reiterated, a grin breaking his face. "So we don't know. We're skipping our first year of college so we can do this! It's really a lot of fun."

Ludwig eyed him with disapproval. "It's not smart to skip a year for a little trip," he said, a hint of scolding his voice. He crossed the room and sat on the couch, reaching for a map on the coffee table. "You should head back to college as soon as possible."

"I know!" Feliciano announced, holding a finger up. "When I find Romano again, I'll ask the others if you can come along! It'll be great fun, I promise!"

Ludwig shook his head, ruffling the map. "I hardly even know you. It's not in my nature to do such rash things like that." He searched out the mall Feliciano had blabbered to him about amidst his tears, trying to find likely routes this Romano figure would have taken.

Feliciano played with his hands, watching Ludwig all the while. He'd never quite met anyone like Ludwig before. Someone who was scary and helpful at the same time. There were always scary people and there were always helpful people, but no one with both characteristics. And when Ludwig looked at him with those blue eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat for a moment…

Feliciano's face flushed.

_Whoa, whoa, Feliciano! This is a stranger! A stranger! Stranger danger! What has Romano told you about strangers?_

"They would probably get lost in the heart of the city," Ludwig said after a while, folding up the map again. "I don't have a car, but we can cover the memorable landmarks by foot." He stood up and noticed Feliciano staring at him. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Your face is red."

"I'm fine!" Shaking the flutters away, Feliciano grinned as he latched onto Ludwig's arm. Ah, he felt normal again. Arms were meant to be hung upon. Feliciano looked down and saw a strong hand at the end of the arm in question; it was nothing like Romano's – it was big and strong and…pulling Ludwig to the door, Feliciano felt his mouth disconnect from his brain. "Let's go! I gotta find Romano!"

--

"Prussia," Romano said threateningly, his voice narrow and sharp, "there are _seven_ major colleges in the vicinity of Berlin and you're saying we've got to 1) visit every single one and 2) go through security at each one?" Prussia, who was always cocky and confident, nodding with a hint of fear. "And what about my brother? What if he's been _raped_ by now?!"

"Feliciano will be okay!" Spain insisted.

"You don't get it!" Romano snapped, and France noticed a look of apology cross the boy's face. "Feliciano is too naïve," he explained, his voice slightly gentle. "He might follow someone somewhere."

"Feliciano will try and find you," Prussia said, trying to get off the hot seat. "He loves you too much to leave you."

"We're just sitting in the middle of the road!" Romano raged. "If we're going to scour all the colleges, let's get a hold on it, alright?" Biting his lip as France drove on, Romano willed himself to take a deep breath. He couldn't wear himself out worrying. He had to save some energy to beat the pulp out of his brother once he found him.

--

After dragging Ludwig around the city, Feliciano found himself close to tears again. Romano and the van was nowhere to be found. All he could see were hoards of people and too many cars. Clutching at Ludwig's sleeve, Feliciano wept shamelessly, rubbing his eyes.

Feeling awkward again in the presence of such a forlorn being, Ludwig dug through his pockets for a tissue. "Don't rub your eyes," he said, his voice a little monotone. "They'll get red."

"Thanks," Feliciano murmured, taking the tissue and brushing his eyes with it. "What if I never find them?"

"We're bound to run into them." Why had they not gone to the police station yet? Ludwig figured it was the exact reason why he hadn't left Feliciano on the sidewalk earlier that day. It would have been child's play to sidestep a crazy person, as he encountered many in Berlin, shouting about the world's end or unspeakable doom, but somehow when those irritable brown eyes locked with his, he couldn't just brush the problem away like dust.

In a way, Feliciano reminded him of his dogs he left behind at his childhood home when he had to go to university.

"I'm hungry," Feliciano said, leaning his head on Ludwig's shoulder, the gesture surprising the blonde for a moment. To any stranger on the street, they could pass as being close. And he'd hardly known this boy! All he knew about this kid was his name, that he was a twin, and he was on some sort of cross country roadtrip with a pack of friends. It sort of reminded him of his bothersome brother, whom he'd lost contact with. "We missed lunch and it's getting sort of late…" Feliciano glanced up at the sky. "Romano…"

Ludwig cleared his throat. "I could fix you something at my place…do you have anywhere to go tonight?"

"No." Feliciano looked up at him and Ludwig cleared his throat again, avoiding the brown staring up at him. Those eyes, especially glittery with tears, reminded him too much of the dogs he left at home, whom he showered with affection. It was a habit of his (he was a dog kind of person), and if this boy continued looking so similar, he could…

No! He hardly knew this person!

"Could I stay with you?" Feliciano asked.

"You know," Ludwig said, making his way through the now nightly crowd, "you really shouldn't accept offers from strangers to sleep at their homes. It's a dangerous world and bad things could happen to you."

Feliciano kept staring at him. "So you're saying I can't?"

"No." The blonde wondered if he was making himself clear. "But I'm just telling you it's unwise to be so friendly toward strangers. I mean you no harm, but you never know."

"What would you do with me?"

Did he have to answer that question?

"Oh." Feliciano leaned into Ludwig, and the blonde could feel a faint heartbeat. "But Ludwig is a nice person. He wouldn't hurt me, right?" When Ludwig didn't answer, Feliciano pressed on, sounding optimistic. "No, he wouldn't! Because he was so nice as to help me look for my brother, and he's offering for me to stay with him for the night, so you're a good person." Feliciano nodded at his logic.

The city was dangerous for someone like Feliciano. Ludwig promised himself he wouldn't let the boy out of his sight.

--

"After twenty-four hours, the chances of finding a missing person alive is slim," Romano said to himself, curled up in the back of Euro on the ratty mattress. France was driving around the city still, keeping an eye on the gas tank and the time. They had to find a place to crash for the night, and there were no cheap motels in the city. They would have to lurk in the public parks.

"Feliciano is okay," Spain said, the usual assurance. Romano ignored him, quiet in the back. Prussia turned, glancing at Spain, before climbing out of the passenger seat to the back. Winking at Spain, who blinked surprisedly at him, Prussia clamored to the back, sitting next to Romano.

"Feliciano is going to be fine. That little bugger would run out of there if anyone pulled a France on him. He practically thinks he's married to you, after all." Prussia grinned cockily. So far, the five colleges they had visited had no record of his brother. Romano had gone from panicked outbursts to simmered silence. There was a silent agreement among the Bad Company Trio that this Romano was not settling in the least. "I bet he's running around screaming for you, Romano."

"What do you know, you bastard," Romano shot, sounding tired. "What am I going to do? Rome's going to skin me alive if he lost his favorite grandson…" He closed his eyes, as if he could hide from the issue of his missing brother. Prussia hummed to himself as he ran his fingers absentmindedly through the elder twin's hair with no punishment.

Spain watched this, thinking for a moment that Romano looked awfully like Feliciano and there was something troubling about seeing Prussia interact so intimately with him.

--

"This is strange…what is it?"

"It's wurst." Ludwig rarely cooked for someone and it was sort of unnerving to be serving someone else. He was used to his cooking, so he couldn't tell if it was particularly good or not. He watched Feliciano poke at it before trying a bit.

Feliciano was not one to hide emotions, Ludwig realized, as the boy made a face. "It's strange," Feliciano said through bites. "I've never eaten anything like it." Swallowing, his face lit up with a smile. "But it's okay cause you made it!"

Yes, Berlin hosted a many number of strange people.

--

They had found a quiet part of the city park, one not run by a gang of punks or cross dressers. Yes, this city was very strange. France had gone to find food, finding himself at home with crazed streakers, one which ran in front of the car and waved wildly before darting back into the bushes.

"Is he asleep?" Spain asked, peeking into the back. Prussia nodded, his hand still running through Romano's hair.

"Is this how you feel with Feliciano?" Prussia whispered excitedly. "Spain, you know I never really like anyone…I just…you know…fuck around with people. But Romano…I sort of want to do more than make out with him. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Spain rested his head on the headrest. "I wish Feliciano were here."

Prussia cackled. "Why, so you two could cuddle? Honestly, such abstinent activities like that are not for me." Taking his hand from Romano's hair, Prussia leaned back. "Isn't it weird that France is actually stepping back? He usually insists on having a threesome with us."

"That is weird," Spain agreed. His eyes had gone from Prussia to Romano, sleeping soundly below him.

"I just hope Feliciano doesn't just go home with anyone," Prussia mused. "After all, I wouldn't mind getting in either twin's pants, so I don't want to see Feliciano in a mess."

"You know what would be weird?" Spain said, resting his head in his arms while pushing disturbing thoughts out of his head. "If your brother found Feliciano. Whoa. Wouldn't that be something?"

"Yeah, but Feliciano would never go home with my brother," Prussia scoffed. "He's such a tight ass that Feliciano would run away immediately. Which is a shame. That brother of mine would be the only one in the city who wouldn't do anything to him."

--

Feliciano had complained that the clothes he had one were not comfortable for bed and he'd left all his clothes back at Euro (Ludwig wondered what on earth a Euro was) so he'd lent the boy one of his old shirts, worn soft with wear. He'd instructed Feliciano that he could sleep on the couch and presently, Ludwig was getting comfortable in bed when the door burst open and Feliciano rushed in, holding a pillow in one arm and a blanket in the other.

"Ludwig!" Feliciano, regardless of the fact he knew the man for only fifteen hours, leapt into the bed, snuggling up next to the now frantic blonde. "I'm sorry, the living room is too scary! There are shadows everywhere!"

"Do you want a light on?" Ludwig nearly leapt out of his skin when he felt a leg brush against him. "You're wearing pants…right?"

"Nope!"

Ludwig groaned, pressing a hand against his eyes. "Listen, kid…it's things like this that'll give you problems."

"What do you mean? And I'm Feliciano! Or Italy! Not 'kid'!" Feliciano stuck his lip out in a pout. "And I sleep with my brother all the time! I'm not used to spending the night alone. One time Romano got mad at me and I couldn't sleep until a long time. I can't sleep by myself!" Feliciano snuggled closer, although Ludwig started to inch away. With the scant lighting from the lights outside, the blonde could see the curve of hips next to him, barely covered by his shirt.

Deep breath. You are not looking at another man's hips. This is totally normal.

About as normal as taking in a random stranger on the street and ending up in the same bed as them.

Yes, this happened all the time.

--

Romano woke up early the next morning. Where were they? All he knew was he was still in Euro, and it seemed the Bad Company Trio were also there. Great. Noticing he was being pinned against Prussia (how the hell did that albino get there?!), Romano pushed him off and stood up, stooping to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. Spain was sprawled on the backseat, asleep. France was lying across the driver's and passenger seat, also asleep.

"Lazy idiots, dammit," Romano muttered to himself. Spain looked…sort of cute when he was asleep. The Spaniard's breathing was sort of comforting to hear. Cocking his head, Romano leaned down, still watching Spain. Great, he was now a creeper. He had morals; he wasn't going to attack someone in their sleep like a certain idiot at his feet. But still, maybe…Spain was dense enough…

Suddenly he was staring into green eyes, as Spain's eyes shot open as if he had sensed the intent. Yelping, Romano straightened up, bumping his head and cursing loudly, wakening Prussia and France. Spain sat up, oblivious. "Good morning, Romano!" Romano stumbled back, shaking Euro a bit.

"God, you two," France huffed, checking his watch. "It's a bit early to scout for Feliciano. We were up since midnight last night."

"But I agree with Romano," Spain said, looking suddenly awake as if he had not really been sleeping. "I really want to find Feliciano too. I really hope nothing happened to him." Spain sighed. "If something did, I'd beat the shit out of anyone who hurt him."

"Right, because they'd have the same intention of deflowering him like you do," Prussia yawned.

"Prussia!" Spain shouted, although he didn't rebuke him.

"This is stupid," Romano muttered, sinking back down to the mattress. "Two more colleges to go."

"We've got one in two chances of hitting the jackpot this time!" Prussia yelled. "I'm finding my brother then, and I'm hauling his ass with us to find your brother!"

"The driver says ten more minutes," France said firmly, leaning back. "Shut up or I'll make it thirty."

--

Ludwig was not loose with women. He also did not like sharing beds with anyone. So he was a bit disoriented when he opened his eyes and saw a face next to his, sleeping peacefully.

First thought: _Just how buzzed was I last night?_

Second thought: _Maybe this isn't my apartment._

Third thought: _Oh, yesterday wasn't a nightmare I couldn't wake up from after all._

Slowly sliding out of bed to avoid waking Feliciano, Ludwig wondered if he'd have to miss another day of school again. This wouldn't do, to be absent so much. But he couldn't as well leave this boy to himself at his house. Feliciano really was a nuisance. He'd have to find this Romano kid as soon as possible.

"Vee~" Feliciano sat up in bed, startling Ludwig. "Hey, Ludwig…good morning~!"

Ludwig grunted in reply, finding it difficult to form words to express what he was thinking.

"I've got to find the others today," Feliciano murmured to himself. "Romano will be very upset with me. He'll yell at me a lot. But I hope not having me around gave him some time with Spain. That would be nice~"

Despite the fact Feliciano was obviously speaking to himself, Ludwig's ears perked up. "Spain?" he said, frowning. Where had he heard that name before? It was at the tip of his thoughts.

"Never mind!" Feliciano chirped. "My friends have strange nicknames." He started to slip out from under the covers when Ludwig practically dove across the bed and kept them around Feliciano's waist.

"Before you get out," Ludwig said, keeping Feliciano from leaving the sheets, "put some pants on."

"I left them outside," Feliciano whined.

"I'll get them. Don't move." Ludwig pulled some pants on himself and was in the living room collecting Feliciano's articles of clothing when the twin popped into the room, clearly pant-less. Ludwig covered his eyes.

"There are my pants!" Taking them from Ludwig's arms, Feliciano pulled on his boxers. "Thanks, Ludwig."

_Things are normal. I have naked people in my house all the time._

Ludwig ventured a peek once he was sure Feliciano was decent. The boy was wandering around with his shirt still on. "You left your shirt," Ludwig pointed out, holding Feliciano's shirt. The twin looked at him.

"I like wearing yours," Feliciano said, bringing up the overly long sleeves up to his nose. "They smell good." The brunette took a deep breath. "They smell like you."

No, this was not a dog reference, he was okay, he was okay…the next moment Ludwig knew, Feliciano had found a bottle of bubbles (which Ludwig did not even know he possessed) and was now blowing them in the air.

"That will make the floor sticky," Ludwig warned, seeing the sudsy bubbles burst on the floor, leaving an awful mark. He'd have to clean that up once he deposited Feliciano where he belonged.

"It's soapy!" Feliciano insisted, his attention waning from the bubbles to Ludwig. That boy had the attention span of a rabid squirrel.

"You know what, Ludwig? I like you!" This apparent confession blew Ludwig out the water and he found his thought process stop completely. "You're so nice. I really think even France will let you come with us! You've got to meet my friends. They're so nice! Really! And you should come with us. It'll be so fun!"

France? Where had he heard that name as well? It was as familiar as Spain.

"Let's eat," Feliciano said, bursting Ludwig from his remembering state. "We'll go find Romano after breakfast and then we can start on our next city!"

--

Eating breakfast in the Euro was a good saving of time, as the first college they went to was gold. The secretary pulled up Germany's file, although she had given Prussia a strange look as he ranted on and on about his brother. It had taken her a while to be convinced they were related, but even Prussia's driving license couldn't lie, as Germany had put him down as a relative and a contact.

"He has an apartment in the west side."

"How damn appropriate!" Prussia shouted, disrupting some students walking through the halls. The secretary had a perpetual frown as she copied down the address and practically threw it at them with a testy, "Good day". At Romano's request, France sped through the streets and they found themselves at Germany's place before the sun was high.

Prussia led the way, as if he knew where his brother lived all along. "So, you all remember Germany, eh?" Spain and France nodded, although Romano gave him a look. "You'd know him in a second, Romano. Germany…man, he's the most anal person I know. Everything has to be perfect for him. He doesn't even have a hair out of place."

"Prussia gelled his hair up into spikes in his sleep," Spain recalled, grinning. "Germany was all up in arms the next morning."

"But as a little brother, he couldn't do anything about it," Prussia said. "He's around your age, Romano, but he doesn't enjoy life at all. I sort of hate him, but he's my little brother, and you've got to love your little brother." They reached the apartment and Prussia knocked loudly, practically hammering down the door. When there was no answer, Prussia sighed loudly.

"Probably at school, that stupid bastard," Prussia grumbled. "Well, we'll wait for him here." Reaching up, Prussia ran his hand across the top of the door. "He always hides his keys in such obvious places," he muttered, pulling out a key from a hidden hole at the door. Inserting it in, he unlocked the door and burst into the apartment like he had finally returned home.

"Oy! West! _West_! Ya home?" Prussia had run through the whole place before France closed the door behind him. "He ain't home, that little idiot!" Prussia grinned as he scanned the place. "Just like Germany, though. Look at this place. Spotless and well-taken care of. What a freak."

"He didn't do the dishes," France mused, looking into the sink. "That's unusual. And there are _two_ plates."

"Whoa, he got a girlfriend?" Prussia yelped, jumping over to take a look.

"This is a little too small for him, isn't it?" Spain asked, holding up a shirt lying on the back of the couch. Romano turned and the color clicked in his head.

"This is Feliciano's!" Romano shouted, grabbing the shirt from Spain. A look of pure death crossed his face. "Feliciano is running about without his shirt? Prussia, what sort of brother do you have?"

Prussia looked shocked himself. "Germany wouldn't do something like that to anyone!"

"I'm going to go look for him," Romano announced, storming to the door. France immediately grabbed him.

"We'll go find him," he said firmly, keeping Romano inside the apartment. "You'll kill Germany before he gets a chance to explain anything. Stay here with Prussia. Spain and I will go look for the two of them."

"He _deserves_ to be killed!" Romano shouted, straining against France. "And why does Prussia have to stay behind too?"

"Prussia would not bring them back. He would let them wander around with him until he felt like coming back." France glanced at Spain for help. "Please calm down, Romano. The quicker you cooperate, the faster me and Spain can go find your brother and take him from Germany's lecherous hands."

"Romano…" Spain walked over to Romano and gently took Feliciano's shirt from his frantic brother's hand. It was a miracle the thick headed Spaniard couldn't even read the reaction he was getting from Romano, who suddenly froze in France's grip. "We won't take too long, so just wait a bit, okay? We'll find Italy." Spain grinned and Romano wilted.

"Fine," the elder twin said, almost whispered. France sensed a change of mood and let go as Romano slumped onto the floor, looking physically spent although they had done no more than ten minutes of actual walking that day. "I guess since you've wanted to see him so much you'd find him faster."

"I do," Spain said, oblivious to everything. "Let's go, France!"

--

Ludwig was starting to think he was getting used to Feliciano's crazy antics, especially when the boy dragged him into a shoe store (he figured the twin's brother and his friends would not be shoe shopping) and asked the clerk if he could try on some three inch stilettos. He was starting to think he'd seen it all when the twin wobbled up on him unsteadily in heels and toppled into him, knocking them both onto the ground. He was starting to think he had to get rid of this kid before he could process the feeling that arose when Feliciano's mouth was so ungodly close to his while still sprawled on the ground.

Goddammit, Feliciano was a complete _stranger_! And a boy, no less!

This was really freaking Ludwig out more than he'd cared to admit.

"That was kind of fun," Feliciano chirped happily, back in his worn Vans-like shoes. Nothing he wore seemed to display any tell-tale logo but Ludwig had a feeling this boy didn't shop for comfort too often. Feliciano seemed to aim more for flashy. Then again, he'd just watched him try on stilettos, so there you have it.

He had to get rid of him!

But he'd feel bad leaving Feliciano on the side of the road.

Not to mention he'd (stupidly) shown the twin where he lived.

This was not good.

"I think we should start looking for your friends," Ludwig reminded the brunette, who was suddenly caught up in a tween's boutique. Dragging the excited twin away from an outfit that housed one too many ruffles for an ordinary male, Ludwig cleared his throat. "I don't think they feel very secure since you've been gone for a day."

"I have been looking for them!" Feliciano protested. "They could have been in that shop!"

"Of course they have. They were looking at jean skirts, weren't they?"

"Yeah! I think I saw Prussia in there just now!"

Prussia. Oh gods, no. Of all the stragglers he had to pick up, he had to pick up one of Prussia's friends. No wonder Spain and France sounded so familiar.

Speak of the devil, here they came now.

"Feliciano!" Spain shouted the name so loudly he was heard over the loud clattering of the city as he ran to the younger twin, hugging him tightly and sweeping him off his feet. France walked up, relatively calmer as Spain swung Italy around, both laughing like maniacs in the middle of the city.

"Germany," France said, nodding.

"You know each other?" Feliciano asked breathlessly, as Spain set him down again. "I was looking for you guys all over the place!"

"We were looking for you too! Romano was so close to having a nervous breakdown!" Spain grinned and kept an arm around the younger Vargas. Feliciano seemed to have wanted to duck out of the gesture but it was much too crowded for unnecessary movement. "Geez, Germany, why can't you just stay in one place?"

"We were out looking for you people," Germany said, trying to keep from throwing up his hands and washing them of this problem.

"How do you know Ludwig?" Feliciano asked.

"Feliciano! Don't tell us we didn't tell you!" France smiled and gently plucked Feliciano from Spain's grip, practically twirling him on the sidewalk. "This here, my darling, is no other than Germany, Prussia's little brother!"

"I didn't know Prussia had a little brother!" Feliciano squealed. "Germany!" Trying out the name and deciding he liked it, Feliciano grabbed Germany's arm. "My name is Italy!"

Keeping the same poker face, Germany turned to France and Spain. "You've roped innocent people into your stupid naming scheme?"

"Hey, America came up with it," Spain shrugged, making no sense to Germany.

"Where's Romano? And Prussia?" Feliciano reminded the rest that they had almost forgotten two members of their jolly group. France shook his head.

"We left them at Germany's place."

"You broke into my house?"

"You left them alone?" Feliciano looked frightened for a moment. "Let's go back. I don't like leaving them alone." France gave him a look but the younger twin pulled Germany along. "So, let's go back. Come on!"

Spain looked miffed to see Feliciano dragging Germany along and fell into step with France behind them. "Why is Italy hanging on Germany?" he asked, unable to make any connection.

It was an interesting point, but not one Spain had to know for certain. "Have you noticed," France said instead, "that he likes to lean on people he's comfortable with? You see him hang off Romano all the time."

"That's true," Spain said, thinking. "But he doesn't do it to me."

"You're special," France replied, not quite meaning it the way Spain took it. The latter grinned and his mood improved considerably.

Feliciano practically sprinted up the stairs, dragging Germany along and talking the blonde's ear off. "You'll like my brother, Germany, you're both scary and I think you two will get along. He doesn't really like Prussia too much, though. But that's okay! Okay, we're here!"

Ludwig wondered how he had turned from 'Ludwig' to 'Germany' in less than a blink.

The door was locked and Feliciano waited impatiently as Germany unlocked the door, bursting in as the key clicked. "Romano! I'm back! I found Prussia's brother! I'm okay!"

There was no one in the living room, which threw Feliciano off a bit, allowing the other three to come into the apartment. "I'm sure he and Prussia are just bickering somewhere," France said, not looking anxious in the least. Germany, not quite following the conversation, merely watched.

"Come on, Ita-chan, I'll help you find him." Spain smiled as Feliciano looked at him. The two of them wandered around the apartment as France plopped on the couch, acting as if he had not gone on a wild goose chase. Germany continued watching, trying logically to piece everything together.

"Romano!" Feliciano rushed around, peeking in every room. The doors were all open except the bathroom, which was always closed. In the essence of looking under every rock, Feliciano burst into the bathroom. "Romano! I'm home!"

There was a burst of activity as Spain finally caught up to Feliciano, who had turned almost as white as the tiles in the bathroom. Prussia and Roman were both sitting on the floor with their clothes on, but there was the unmistakable embarrassment that meant something had been interrupted. It didn't even take three guesses to wonder why Romano's shirt was unbuttoned and the elder's twin's lips were red with activity. There was a hair of silence before Prussia deemed the interruption irrelevant and grabbed Romano, mashing their mouths together again.

"Get off him!" Feliciano shrieked, suddenly darting into the bathroom and pushing Prussia back into the toilet. Grabbing Romano, Feliciano pulled his dazed twin out of the bathroom to the doorway. "Prussia, you can't do that!"

"He can do whatever he wants!" Romano pulled himself roughly from Feliciano's grasp. When the younger twin stared at him, Romano stared back defiantly. "I started it."

"But…" No, wait! How could this happen? If he'd known leaving his brother alone for a day would make this happen, he wouldn't have gone to find another bathroom! By now, France and Germany were peeking around to see what the ruckus was about. And Romano wasn't supposed to like Prussia. This was all wrong!

"Spain, what do you…" Feliciano turned to consult Spain, but the dark haired man was no longer there.

To be continued

--

Note: OH I'm so sorry! I was going to update earlier if I knew I was only up to chapter 6! I had hurriedly finished 8, thinking I was up to that point. Oh well. Plot twist? You like? Review, please!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: ---

**Minimal fluff 09!**

--

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 7

Romano scowled as the door closed behind France and Spain. Not only was his twin brother still MIA without his shirt, but he was trapped waiting for the search party to come back with an equally unappetizing situation.

Trapped in an empty apartment alone with a horny albino.

"So Romano," Prussia drawled, looking like he'd won the lottery. "What should we do until they come back?"

"Anything that doesn't involve touching, talking, or eye contact," Romano grumbled. He was feeling particularly foul, brought on from the nerves of losing his _only_ brother and the fact that _that_ made Spain's stupid crush on his brother more obvious. He didn't want to put up with Prussia on top of that.

"So what do you think my brother got up to with your brother last night?" Prussia seemed immune to Romano's death glare. "I mean, after all…if Feliciano had to take his shirt off."

"Don't talk about that!" If so help him, this Germany character robbed his little brother of his virtue, he would…

"I'm just saying." Prussia put his hands up in surrender, although mischief was still glinting in his red eyes. "But I think it's cute you're worrying about your little brother like that. Y'know, sometimes I worry about Germany too. But he's not that hard to get worried about, especially since he's not as cute as Feliciano."

"Would you quit with that?" Romano barked, feeling his already tense irritation rise.

"What? It's the truth!"

"It's always about Feliciano. _Everyone_ always likes him best. That's okay. I don't want to be doted on like him." He had to get away from Prussia and think things over. He definitely didn't like the stupid, fawning expression Spain always got whenever he talked about Feliciano. It wasn't pleasant to look or even think about.

Prussia followed him. "That's not true, Romano. There are a million reasons to like either of you…except you're not too likeable."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Romano turned around, realizing Prussia had been following a bit too close. Skitting away before Prussia could reach for him, Romano ducked past him out of the room they had walked into. This damn apartment was a maze.

"Feliciano is so open about everything! And he smiles all the time. You're…not." Prussia smirked, leaning on the doorframe. "You're like a disgruntled widow."

"You're such a loser," Romano spat. "I wouldn't understand how Feliciano could put up with someone related to you."

"Relax! Germany's such a freak compared to me." Prussia waved his hands about, distracted for a moment from the conversation. "Can you see his place? Even as kids, he didn't like me messing up the house. He's pretty anal about everything." Prussia dared a step forward and Romano took two steps back into the living room.

"Feliciano likes weird people," Romano insisted, stepping behind the sofa. It looked more like a standoff to any outsiders looking in, with Prussia wearing a conqueror's expression and Romano holding his own across from him. "He always liked making friends with strange kids."

Prussia shook his head, looking disappointed. "I don't get why your brother can't just see how Spain is so obsessed with him. Better Spain than Germany, really."

"Why Spain?" Prussia failed to see how Romano looked as if his insides were suddenly twisted inside him.

"Spain's such a good guy. I know he acts like he doesn't have a brain, but he's really a nice kid. He looks out for all of us. You wouldn't want to mess with him. Not to mention he's much more fun than Germany! Come on! If you knew my brother, you'd like Spain better too."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Why? Are you jealous?"

Romano didn't think Prussia meant anything by that, but he wasn't going to go through with it anyway. Prussia was going to stalk him all over the place and he needed a wall between him and that annoying man.

"People like you too, you know!" Prussia called, as Romano turned again and stormed down the hallway. He heard the albino's footsteps behind him and Romano hurried toward the bathroom. Surely the annoyance would leave him be there.

"No one likes me," Romano said ruefully, feeling stuck in a depreciating mode.

"That's not true," Prussia insisted, following Romano into the bathroom and blocking the twin from closing the door. There was a brief struggle as Prussia slipped into the bathroom and Romano found himself closing the door behind them. He was going to reach for it again to leave when Prussia trapped him at the sink, putting his hands on either side of him to keep him in place. "I like you."

In a fit of who-knew-what, Romano grabbed Prussia and kissed him _hard_. It was strange; he'd never kissed another boy before but Prussia was kissing back and it felt kind of good. He'd never really tongue-kissed too much before to be good at it, but Prussia was being a good teacher, nibbling at his lower lip as those damn dexterous fingers reached for his shirt. Romano pulled them both down, feeling more comfortable kneeling.

They had been going at it for a while, half really hearing Feliciano announce he was around and hadn't stopped even there was a sound of a search but when his brother burst in, like a switch –_ click!_ – he stopped. But just like that, Spain appeared and – _click!_ – the switch turned off again.

Romano sort of meant to snap at his brother. It felt good to do so.

--

They were all congregated in the living room; Romano was slouching in an easy chair by himself as Prussia watched him hungrily on the floor. Germany found himself next to Feliciano, leaning on him like he had no backbone. France was sitting on the kitchen counter ("Don't worry, Germany, I'll wipe the counter clean with my ass, okay?") and Spain was standing at the door, looking antsy to leave. There was a heavy silence hanging in the air and Feliciano fidgeted.

"So, um…" Not liking long silences much, Feliciano broke the tension. "Why do they call you Germany, Germany?"

"Cause he's West!" Prussia said proudly before Germany could get a word in. "We came up with my nickname first. I was Prussia, and Prussia is the eastern part. And since Germany was my complete opposite, I call him West! Which is basically Germany! And that's how his name came up; by awesome me."

"Of course," France supplemented, looking extremely interested while eating something he found in Germany's kitchen. Ever since they had returned, France had a feeling something exciting was happening under his nose and being named after the country of romance, he had to pay attention. Perhaps he could even join in, if he was sly enough.

"Could you get off him?" Romano grouched, shooting a glare at his brother, who was still leaning into Germany. Feliciano looked hurt, scooting away from the blonde.

"Like you have any merit saying that, with your PDA today," Spain said suddenly from the door.

"What's it to you?" Romano shot back. The air tensed with the spark between them and France almost applauded.

"Hey, let's not fight," Feliciano begged, standing up and pushing Spain toward the balcony. From behind, he signaled he was going to have a talk with the man and although he sensed Romano wanted to follow, his brother didn't move from the easy chair, not even granting them eye contact. Closing the sliding doors behind him, Feliciano smiled uneasily at Spain.

"So! We're in Berlin, huh?" Feliciano stared down at the busy street below them. "I like it a lot. I was walking around with Germany a lot today and yesterday. I'm sort of sad we're going to leave it soon."

"It makes me a little worried," Spain said suddenly. Feliciano looked up, noticing for the first time that there wasn't a perpetual smile on Spain's face anymore. "Seeing Prussia and Romano like that…it doesn't seem natural." He shrugged, a faint smile coming back. "It was like watching the sun rise in the west."

"It was a little unexpected," Feliciano agreed. "After all, Romano didn't seem to like Prussia at all."

"I suppose now they'll be making out in Euro from now on."

"I don't think so." Feliciano shook his head. Not if he could help it. "Hey, Spain! I was wondering…do you think the others would be okay if Germany came with us on our road trip? I think it would be tons and gallons of fun!"

"Germany?" Spain raised an eyebrow. "Not to be a downer, but I've handled Germany before in the past…he's younger than us but he acts like he's some sort of military father. It might not be as fun as you think."

"The more the merrier!" Feliciano cried, grabbing Spain's hands. This had a profound effect on the Spaniard, scattering the cheerful cheeks with a flattering pink. "And Germany doesn't seem to be a bad guy. I think it would be great if he came with us. I really want him to."

"Well, I guess if you think it's okay. I'm sure Prussia wouldn't really care and France wouldn't either if a fuss didn't happen…"

"Let's go ask!" Slamming the sliding doors open again (Germany jumped at that), Feliciano crossed the room in two bounds and tackled Germany. "Germany! Would you like to come with us on our road trip?"

Germany, just recovering from the fact that Feliciano nearly broke his balcony doors, replied without thought, "No."

"Oh, but _please_?"

"No," Germany repeated firmly. "You all may have no trouble taking a break from your studies, but it is an important issue that I stay in school. Your little journey is also poorly planned out and I suspect disasters waiting to happen."

"But that's the fun of it!" Prussia insisted.

"Quite simply, I do not see the fun of hanging out with my brother, whom I hardly get along with, and his friends, whom I also do not easily get along with. Not to mention I don't know you twins well either."

"You know _me_," Feliciano protested.

"The answer is still no," Germany deadpanned, standing up and straightening himself. "You may stay here for the night but I expect you to be gone the next morning. Not only have the group of you been running around amok for too long, I have an early morning class to attend. I'm sorry for not being any more hospitable, but it can't be helped."

Feliciano opened his mouth to argue when he suddenly closed it, and Romano, having lived with him for years, noticed the mischievous glint in his brother's eyes. "Oh, wait, no…" But there was no stopping a plan once it was implanted in his dumb twin's head.

"Oh, yes," Feliciano murmured, smiling slightly. "I guess it can't be helped then," he said finally, smiling placidly at Germany, who seemed slightly taken aback by this acceptance. "I'm sorry to bother you then."

It seemed to the others this was an unusual occurrence. Especially when Feliciano was known for whining and getting his way and he was now settling for something against his wishes. Especially when Romano was looking afraid at something he knew better than the others. When Germany left the room to make a call to the college, explaining why he had missed another day of school, Feliciano gathered the Bad Company Trio into a corner and explained his plan. Romano had made it clear he would take no part, but made no effort to stop the scheme.

Hell hath no fury like an Italian scorned. Particularly an Italian named Feliciano Vargas.

--

Germany _had _been sleeping peacefully, his internal clock telling him he had an hour before the alarm would go off and he would return once more to his daily routine when he felt himself being forcefully grabbed and dragged out of bed. His eyes darting open as if he hadn't been sleeping to begin with, he opened his mouth to protest, not fully awake enough to thrash around, when someone shoved a pair of boxers over his head to silence him.

"Quick! Get him to Euro!" This sounded eerily like Feliciano, whom Germany had always associated with a pure, sinless heart. Someone had pinned his arms to the side and there were an ungainly group carrying him down the hall.

"I can't believe we got him asleep!" This cocky voice had to belong to Prussia, and it was somewhere near his feet. Letting out a grunt, Germany kicked out.

"Damn~! Get the pants, get the pants!" There was a scuffle as Germany struggled as he felt a pair of his own pants wrap around his legs and someone tied it there snuggly. Someone had found a belt and was starting to loop it around his arms.

"Quick! Before he can get away!"

"What the…where are you taking me?!" It was difficult to speak through boxers over your head, and Germany felt a sense of dread as he felt the door to his house being opened and the cool air of the hallway hit his skin. They hadn't even let him get dressed!

"Don't worry, we turned off all the lights and the stove too and we're gonna lock the door too!" Spain always worried about the strangest things.

"God, this is the dumbest thing we've ever done," Romano grumped somewhere further down the hallway, sounding tired and angry. "We could have just left him here, the party pooper."

There was a click of the key in the lock and Prussia whooped loudly, despite the fact it was five in the morning. "Come on, kids! Euro's parked out front, let's get him in and let 'er rip!"

"Stop!" Germany commanded, but he had little authority having a belt constricting his upper body and a pair of pants around his feet.

"Relax, honey, we got you a shirt too," France soothed, throwing a shirt over the boxers as they carted him down to the elevator.

"Do you know how this is going to look in the security cameras?" Romano snarled, punching the elevator button. Feliciano made a satisfied sound in his throat, sounding oddly like a purr.

"By then we'll be long gone~" Feliciano's smile was almost unbearable, even though Germany couldn't see a thing. "Germany, I'm so glad you're coming with us!"

Germany started thrashing again, rocking back and forth like a salmon. Prussia chuckled as the familiar ding of the elevator sounded through the empty hallway and the whole group packed in. Whoever was responsible for carrying his upper body got careless and Germany cursed as he felt his head collide with the elevator wall.

"Oops! Sorry!" Spain didn't sound too sorry in the slightest.

"This is utterly ridiculous," Romano was still fuming.

"I'll make it up to you," Germany heard Prussia say somewhere near the front.

"Let's not get started on that again," Romano grumbled. Germany heard a 'hmph' deep in Spain's throat. France had started humming along with the elevator music.

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!" Feliciano urged as they started unpacking out of the elevator, carrying Germany above them like a battering ram. Germany put up one last fight, bouncing from the hands to fall in an immobile heap on the floor. Wincing at the contact with the ground, the blonde came to the realization that this actually benefited him little, as he could barely move and all the others had to do was pluck him back up and be on their way. Still, it was an effort.

"Stop resisting~!" Germany heard Feliciano's voice somewhere above his head. There was a general unrest from Germany's flight for freedom and someone kneeled next to his head. "You're coming with us and that's final, okay?" Germany felt something bend over and touch his nose on the other side of the boxers and realized it was another nose; and that breath he could feel through the fabric had to be Feliciano's. He headbutted the twin.

"_Vee_!!"

"Ita-chan, are you okay?"

"Leonard!" The night security guard had to be at his post; Germany had only seen him once or twice after getting some food to sustain an all-nighter. "Leonard! Some help?" But there was no sound.

"Mister Leonard's been taken care of," Feliciano chimed, all traces of pain in his voice gone. A vague sense of dread shot through Germany; by 'taken care of', they couldn't have killed him, could they? "We shot our friend Mister Hundred in his direction and he promised he wouldn't interfere. He also turned off the cameras too! We have a little bit of time to make our escape though. So come on! Let's get to Euro!"

"So _that's_ where my money went!" Romano sounded pissed despite himself at the door. "And all this time I thought Prussia went and got some crack with it." There was a disgruntled sigh from him. "Can we go now?"

"Heave ho!" Germany felt himself be lifted up again and fell limp as the Bad Company Trio carried him out, with Feliciano lingering behind to say, "Thank you, Mister Leonard! You're the best!"

There was the sound of a car door and Germany found himself suddenly thrown into a car, landing on an uncomfortable mattress. He made a loud thump and felt the car shudder underneath him. The engine started loudly, breaking the silence of the night and the doors slammed shut as Feliciano urged, "Drive! Drive, drive!"

The belt was digging into his arms. Germany tried to focus on that fact instead of the many other troubling facts: he had been kidnapped by his own brother and his hodgepodge of friends. He would be skipping his first year of college to run around with these idiots. They hadn't even let him properly pack. The only things he had on him were the belt, the pants around his ankles, one mealy pair of boxers (two, if you counted the pair on his head), and a currently unidentifiable shirt which had been discarded somewhere in the vehicle.

"Can I see yet?" Germany called, getting used to the sensation of numbness in his arms. They had been driving at ungodly speeds in the ungodly hour of the morning for who knew how long. He could guess they had been at the road for only ten minutes, but he was disoriented.

"Should we let him see yet, Ita-chan?" Why was everyone answering to the crazy twin?

"Hmm…I guess it wouldn't hurt. But we're not far enough to untie him." There was a sound of motion and with one swift motion, the boxers were pulled from his head. Germany blinked, getting an eyeful of Feliciano, holding his boxers above his head. "Good morning, Germany! Thanks for riding with us~!"

Germany didn't know whether to attempt to spontaneously die or explode. Feliciano smiled down at him sweetly, tossing the boxers behind him (Romano made a choked sound as they landed near him). "So, you said you weren't going. So this is how you had to come! I hope you won't think I'm a bad person, Germany. I really liked you so I wanted you to come with us!"

"Lighten up, little bro!" Prussia cackled, appearing next to Feliciano. "You'll love it with us! We'll teach you to get rid of your analness, we promise."

"May I be untied?" Germany asked through gritted teeth, struggling against the bounds.

"Not far enough yet, I'm afraid," Prussia said, shaking his head. "How many miles, France?"

"So far, fifteen," France called from the front. "Fifteen more to go and we'll be far enough he won't be able to walk home. He's got no money on him so he can't hitchhike."

"Feliciano, you're a genius!" Spain appeared, cuddling into Feliciano, who squealed. Germany groaned and lay still. There was no way out of the car and he would miss his first class at this rate. It seemed he was fated to go with these hooligans.

Fifteen miles later, as the sun was peeking over the horizon, true to his word, Feliciano set Germany free and pulled him into the backseat. France was still focused on the road, with Romano dozing next to him. The backseat was now crowded as Prussia was smashed against the door, half sitting on Germany while Feliciano was trying to climb on the poor blonde, while still being cuddled by Spain.

Germany took a deep breath and tried to remember the calming techniques he had learned to conquer home life with Prussia. Disasters just waiting to happen…breathe in, breathe out…

--

"Romano."

The seating arrangements had shifted since Germany's abduction, although the car had not stopped and there were many instances of feet in faces. Germany had found his way to the front, next to France. The blonde had fallen asleep in light of his kidnapping, as it was early and he had been jolted awake so rudely. Prussia and Spain were equally knocked out, sprawling over each other in the backseat. Feliciano had snatched his brother and was sitting next to him on the mattress in the trunk.

"Hmm?"

"I wanted to know…" Feliciano leaned his head on Romano's shoulder, hugging his knees to his chest. He loved it when Romano let him be close like this, which didn't happen often. "Why did you kiss Prussia back at Germany's house?"

Romano groaned quietly. They were on whispering terms, as to not be overheard by France. Leaning his head on Feliciano's, Romano sighed. "Can we not talk about this?"

"I want to know."

"It's none of your business."

"Romano, you're my brother, I want to know." Feliciano groped around until he found Romano's hand and held it tightly. "It's not like you to be like that. And anyway, you like Spain."

"That's subject to change, you idiot." Romano closed his eyes, resting against his brother. "Why should I wait around for something that's not going to happen?"

"So you'll settle with Prussia?"

"I'm not settling for anything. It just happened. It doesn't mean it'll happen again."

"I hope not," Feliciano admitted. Romano blinked his eyes open and leaned back to study his twin. "I love you a whole lot and I don't want to see you get hurt."

Romano stared at him before rapping his head against Feliciano's, earning him a surprised squeak from him. "You're sort of part of it too, you know."

"But I don't like Spain back."

"Then who do you like? Germany?"

Feliciano flushed bright red, pulling his hand away from Romano and waving them about frantically. "No! I don't like him like that at all! I just thought it would be cool to have him come with us and it's always more fun with a lot of people so I just thought…and he's Prussia's brother too…and it seemed like a fun idea…"

Romano's face broke out in a knowing smirk. "You can tell me anything, baby brother. I want to know," he said, echoing Feliciano's former thoughts. The younger Vargas shook his head vehemently.

"I do not!"

"Yes you do! I know you do!" Feliciano had wanted his brother to cheer up, but this was a bad way to go about it! "Admit it, you little brat!" Throwing his arms around his twin unceremoniously, Romano chuckled. "I hate you sometimes, but you're such an idiot that I'll make an exception this time."

"I don't like Germany at _all_," Feliciano insisted, pouting as his brother held him. "First of all, he's scary. And he likes to say no all the time. And he's too strict and not enough fun. He got mad at me for little things no one gets mad at me for."

"But you like those sort of people," Romano pointed out, practically glomping Feliciano. "Everyone you've liked up to now hasn't liked you back. You just like that forbidden love kind of feeling, you little masochist!"

"Shut up!" Feliciano glomped back, starting a glomping war that shook the van back and forth.

"Hey, hey, break it up back there. If you two wanted to have some brotherly love time, you could just have told me and I would have joined you." France glanced at them from the rearview mirror, a devious glint in his eyes. Romano stuck his tongue out at him.

Feliciano giggled, burrowing his face in his brother's stomach. Romano was back!

--

"You know, I don't think I'm really comfortable with Prussia and Romano."

France raised his eyebrows. After Germany woke up, realized he was still in Euro, demanded to be let out for a facilities break. Finding a random rest area was hard enough, but it got more complicated when Feliciano insisted he had to tag along to make sure Germany didn't run off. Romano was forced to go along to 'protect his brother', which meant Prussia had to join in the fun as well. Spain, still bedraggled, stood outside the Euro with France.

"What do you mean, darling?"

"I mean, I know Prussia likes him and everything, and I'm happy for him…but it…it doesn't sit right, you know? Are you okay with them?"

"_Oui_, I think it's about time Prussia settled down."

Spain shrugged. "Maybe it's just me. It's like a sense of dread, like if you just made friends with a serial killer. You just don't feel right."

"_Pourquoi?_ Would you rather have it another way…? Like if Prussia liked Feliciano and _you_ had Romano?"

Spain frowned. "No. That's weird. Weird like a parent and child hooking up. And you know I like Feliciano."

"I'm just throwing that out there," France said, holding his hands up in surrender. "So Feliciano has everything you like?" he asked, starting on a new topic, smiling sneakily.

At once – it had to be the hormones – Spain imagined Feliciano smirking as he climbed on top of him, straddling his legs while kissing the daylights out of him. It distracted the curly haired man for a moment, before the intricate reality set in; this was not Feliciano at all. It was a pleasant thought, but Feliciano was in no ways aggressive toward him. He was an adventurous soul (see reasons why Spain agreed to the roadtrip in the first place); generally, he preferred his relationship interests to avoid the straightforward path.

But Feliciano was cute, wasn't he?

"Yes," Spain breathed. France laughed, throwing an arm around his friend.

"You are one tough customer, Spain." The others were now coming out of the rest area, Prussia sprinting toward them as Romano pelted him with wet toilet paper. France, being brilliant, observant, and charming France, had already noticed the way Feliciano was clinging on Germany (he'd had his share of surprises not to act surprised anymore). "I hope you pick wisely, dear."

"What do you mean?"

"Open the door!" Prussia ran at them, and almost as if they had planned it, France stepped aside and slid open the door. The albino dove in, followed by Romano, who was now attempted to force-feed him a roll of toilet paper. Feliciano and Germany followed at a more reasonable pace, Feliciano blabbering on about incessant small talk.

"And we're off!" France shouted.

To be continued

--

Note: Just because you were all nice reviewers! I got 39 reviews for the last chapter! So a reward for being such good readers is another chapter! And fear not! Next is the Canada chapter, which is a bit below par, in my opinion. And just because someone brought it up, this is Hetalia AU. There is no straight man in Hetalia. And this is soap opera Hetalia. It's not supposed to make sense and is realistic.

I hope someone enjoyed the pants quote. I know I did.

REVIEW LOVELIES!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: ---

**Minimal fluff 09!**

**---**

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 8

Matthew wasn't a often noticed person, but he prided himself on his powers of observation. It was only natural for a wallflower to see more things than a typical person. He saw people spiking drinks at parties. He saw fellow classmates cheat on quarter exams. He knew when certain people went to certain places at certain times. Today, as he scanned the lunch room for an empty seat, he was sure he had seen something out of the ordinary.

There was a group in the college cafeteria trying hard not to be conspicuous. The trouble with the effort was it was always noticed. Matthew cocked his head as he watched the pack pretend they were students, although everyone in the room was glancing at them now and then.

No one was approaching them, so Matthew decided to take the initiative and bite the bullet. He made his way across the lunchroom, sidestepping a few students who hadn't seen him and nearly walked smack into him. Carefully balancing his tray so he didn't drop it, Matthew found himself standing next to one of the unfamiliar faces. The guy, perhaps one year older than him, looked up at him.

"Hi," Matthew said, his voice soft as usual. "You guys aren't from here."

"Damn! Are we that obvious!" The man chuckled, the warm sound filling Matthew's ears, turning them red. "Guys!" The whisper-shout hardly went unnoticed. "We're going to have to hide somewhere else. They're noticing."

"Wait! I'm almost done!" An excited twin waved his fork in his air as he shoved a forkful of pasta in his mouth.

"How did you get in?" Matthew asked, not expecting himself to be heard over the growing din. Surprisingly, the man turned back to him.

"We just walked in. No one stopped us. We don't really have a lot of money left and we couldn't find a bank so we decided…you know…" The man shrugged.

"To mooch off a local college?" Matthew smiled placidly.

"Well, no…yes. If they don't kick us out, we're not going to refuse a free meal, right?" He smiled back, although he started to frown. "You won't tell on us, will you?"

"Um…" Matthew paused, balancing the weight of his tray again. The man seemed to notice and quickly scooted to make room, bumping into his curly haired friend. Matthew debated if he should associate himself more with these strangers, but the man pulled him down next to him.

"We won't cause any trouble, honest. We're not out here to make a ruckus. We're just here to eat. And explore London." He flashed a charming smile at Matthew. "I'm France, by the way." France had wrapped an arm affectionately around Matthew's shoulders, as if they had been close forever. The boy shifted uncomfortably at the contact. To distract himself from this, Matthew studied the remaining strangers.

The young man next to France was a tanned, dark curled guy of the same age; he seemed to be preoccupying himself with trying to make small talk with the twin who had insisted he was almost finished. The twin himself was not quite eating; instead, the brunette was seemingly trying to bat his eyes at the blonde next to him, who was pretending all was well. Across the table from the blonde was an albino who could have passed as a brother; this seemingly possessed man was trying to feel up the other twin, who was pushing away these advances and turned to France, irritated. "_Fine,_ France, we'll leave…America! What are you doing here? Finally got tired of England, eh?"

Matthew jumped.

France turned to him. "Ah! I knew you seemed familiar. Might you be the brother of one America? Or shall I say, Alfred Jones?"

Of course. _That_ America. "I'm his younger brother. My name's Matthew."

"_Mathieu_!" France purred, leaning in to breathe down the poor freshman's neck. "I like that name. It's cute."

"Ag," the angry twin glowered. "How can you come on to someone who looks just like America? That guy totally pissed me off."

"Don't mind Romano," France assured, before pointing to the other members of his invasive team. "Prussia, Germany, Feliciano, Spain. The pleasure is ours."

"Hi Canada!" Feliciano chirped.

Matthew groaned. Not only had his brother gotten it in his head that the dumb nickname was catchy, but he had gotten complete strangers to use it. Feliciano looked a bit put-off.

"Do you not want me to call you Canada?" Feliciano asked, looking a little hurt. Matthew, being a people-pleaser, did not want someone bursting into tears at his account. Hurriedly, he shook his head.

"It's fine. It's just surprising. It's America's name for me, so I've never heard anyone call me that before." Shrugging slightly, Canada looked down. "And I call him America, so I guess it doesn't matter."

"Great!" Feliciano jumped up, pulling Germany with him. "I wanna see the campus! Canada, can you show us around?" This seemed to be a switch and instantly, the other travelers leapt to their feet as well. Canada glanced at his untouched food and sighed softly to himself, starting to get up.

"Sometimes, darling," France whispered, "you should do what you like."

_Darling_? Canada shook his head. "It's completely fine." And the campus was really nothing, so it shouldn't take too long to shake these intruders off at the gate and get on with his life. After all, nothing interesting really happened to Canada.

--

And that was the last time he would ever think that.

Somehow, one of the twins (Canada hadn't learned how to tell them apart yet) got stuck in a _door_ of all places. It had taken five, public minutes to extract the sobbing boy and escape the capture of the campus police. So, stupidly as Canada realized now, he had taken them to the dorms to hide.

"This is a nice room!" the freed boy, or Feliciano it was now, chirped, bouncing on the bed across from Canada's. "Who do you live with?"

"His name is Miguel, but everyone just refers to him as Cuban since he got in trouble once for bringing in a pack of Cuban cigars. He's visiting family at the moment." Canada wished his rough-talking, smoking friend was back; maybe he would be the backbone the blonde needed to kick these invaders off campus. He was really too nice, really…

"A friend?" France asked, sliding up to him and wrapping an arm around his waist, much to Canada's surprise. "Or…more than that?" At that, the man breathed down the freshman's neck, turning Canada's cheeks pure pink.

"France!" the albino Prussia yelled. "Don't hit on America in front of us!"

"Canada," Spain reminded helpfully, sitting on the end of the bed where Feliciano was bouncing on.

"We should really be leaving," the leveled headed one of the gang announced, nodding in Canada's direction. "We have really been inconveniencing Matthew, and we in all honesty should not be here this long to begin with."

At that moment, Canada was willing to worship Germany, or at least, thank him profusely. Unluckily for both of them, no one was willing to listen.

"Aw, but it's fun here!" Feliciano insisted, leaping off the bed to drape himself on Germany. "And we really don't have anywhere to sleep; it's a bit too crowded on Euro to sleep all together now."

"Isn't it," Romano said, rolling his eyes and thinking back when they had all been climbing on each other to find a place to sleep – in other words, his idiot brother tried to find space next to Germany, which meant he had to grab onto Feliciano to stop this, which meant Spain obviously had to get into the picture, which dragged along Prussia, and France was never one to deny a good time. A good ruckus, that was, and they had even been interrupted by the police to remind that indecencies were not allowed in parking lots.

"I can't really give you more space than this dorm room," Canada said meekly, his face still flushed as France played with his hair. "Miguel isn't here, so you could take his bed, but really…I'll get in trouble if I start letting you into other dorm rooms or the common room. If you want to stay, you'll have to lay low." No! No, Canada, you mustn't encourage them…!

"Thanks, Cuba!" Feliciano cried, as if the roommate was present to accept this thanks.

Ooh…now he wasn't going to get any sleep, especially with that big unit test tomorrow in history. Not to mention he couldn't focus his thinking efforts on trying to rid himself of these people, not with this ungodly person touching him. He thought he was unfortunate to have Alfred as a brother. Canada always tried to find the perfect balance – to have people acknowledge him; somehow he always found himself either forgotten or poked at.

_Oh, maple…_

--

Romano bit back a string of curses as he closed the door to the dorm room behind him. Stupid Feliciano had taken Germany and was trying to find a nice place to watch the sunset; while this wasn't what Romano would have wanted his brother to do with his time, at least the boy was out of his hair. But no. Germany had to resist and Feliciano had gone crying to him, and whenever Feliciano was in a fuss, it took a while to calm him down.

Bottom line was, Germany finally gave in and Feliciano skipped off with his prize. Germany really was no good.

Romano blinked as he saw Prussia leafing through a magazine he found under Cuba's bed, sitting at the foot of the bed. The albino looked up at the sound of the door and the smirk on his face widened slightly. "Romano," he said, a very clear 'come hither' in his voice, "so good of you to join me."

"I don't want your damn company," Romano retorted. "But everywhere else is noisy."

"Well, come read with me. This Cuba fellow has quite interesting pornos indeed."

"That's hardly how I would see myself spending the evening," Romano scoffed. "Reading dirty magazines with you." Despite himself, he sat next to the albino, who instantly scooted over into his personal space.

"You don't seem too happy," the red-eyed sophomore remarked, all magazines and perverted material forgotten.

"This is barely what I had in mind when Feliciano and I started on this trip," Romano said, rolling his eyes. "Meeting you three was bearable, but only slightly. Now we're just fucking around and hiding out in colleges illegally. It's not my definition of a good time."

"And what would that be?" Prussia persisted, leaning in and practically breathing down the older Vargas's neck.

"I…would you stop that!"

"You know you like it," Prussia purred, wrapping his arms around the unsuspecting twin's waist. Romano groaned and half-heartedly pushed Prussia away; he was in no mood to deal with anyone's libido at this hour. "You're so cute, you know."

"Flattering, coming from you," Romano shot back sarcastically, trying to inch away from Prussia's grip and general face.

"I'll make you feel better," Prussia coaxed earnestly. "Just look at me."

Sighing, Romano complied and Prussia pressed his lips against the unresponsive twin. _That's right…get into the awesomeness._ As if Romano could read his thoughts, Prussia grinned inwardly as the former started to react, kissing back slowly and unsure at first. He wasn't sure which one of them started with the tongue, only it was _extremely_ delicious and it was _extremely_ rewarding to have Romano climb onto his lap and…

"Is anyone in here?" Spain opened the door and peeked in, just in time to see Romano and Prussia separate, limbs in a jumbled mess and the Italian twin straddling the older one, looking quite the intense picture. There was a blunt silence between the two parties, before Romano deemed the situation quite boring and went back to kissing Prussia despite this audience.

Spain blinked and in the split second, recalled the image he had before of Feliciano climbing on him to kiss him and suddenly it was different, it was Romano climbing on him and

"Sorry to interrupt you then," Spain found himself saying thickly, before closing the door behind him.

--

Canada sighed as he flipped the page of his notes. It had been a chore to entertain these parasites (not that he'd ever call that to their faces, heaven forbid…he wasn't his brother…), and it wasn't until late, late, _late_ that the last one fell asleep, sprawled all over his dorm room. It didn't leave him very much room to sleep in, but at this point, he'd have to start cramming to remember all this information.

He was very screwed for his class the next morning.

"Mathieu?" Canada jumped, both at the voice and his name. Turning, he saw France leave the dorm room and step into the common room. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"In a bit," Canada replied meekly, smiling gently. "But I've got to at least go over this material for tomorrow. Don't worry about me." Turning back to his notes, which were turning toasty as he was sitting in front of the fireplace, Canada returned his attention back to his hastily scrawled penmanship and had almost forgotten France was present until the man suddenly appeared next to him and sat down on the rug with him.

"You don't have to stay up!" Canada insisted, shooting to sit up straight. Something about this blue-eyed moocher made every part of him stand up straight, like he'd electrocuted himself. "I'll be fine!"

"You seem stressed," France said, staring straight into Canada's eyes. "I apologize for my friends; we've been a burden and we've imposed ourselves on you."

"I…" But there was no one around and he'd already apologized. "You have," Canada admitted softly. "But I'm used to these kinds of things. I don't really mind."

"Someone such as yourself shouldn't allow yourself to be stepped on, Mathieu." France smiled kindly and Canada gulped. "Now, what are you studying?"

Canada glanced down at his notes, willing himself not to heat up. Now he was sitting too close to the fire. "Linguistics on the French monarchy during the eighteenth century," he murmured, wishing France would leave him be.

"Are you?" There was a note of interest in the usually honeyed tone. "I don't mean to brag about myself, but French history is a strong suit of mine." France reached out and grasped a corner of the notes, waiting for Canada to release his hold on them. Paralyzed, the blonde let France take the papers and watched him as the sophomore skimmed over them.

Canada studied France closely; there was a hint of a stubble that he hadn't noticed before. It was sort of endearing. France suddenly looked up and Canada blinked, aware he had been caught staring.

"I'm sorry! I was staring! I didn't mean it!" Holding up his hands, Canada was about to apologize more but France was smiling.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, _mon cheri_. You may stare, but you deserve to be stared at as well."

Canada gulped again. No matter how he ran it through his head, it was clear that was supposed to be a flirtatious statement. France let the papers rest on the floor before reaching over to caress the startled boy's cheek. "The others still think you look exactly like America…but I would never confuse the two of you, Mathieu. For one, you're much cuter than that child." Before Canada could protest or make a motion to defend his absent brother, France had sealed the space between their mouths, kissing him gently in front of the dying fire.

_Whoa_! Canada shot back like a bullet, his face as flushed as the red pen all over his notes to point out important facts. "I…that's…" Words were failing him again.

France cocked his head, more amusement on his face than disappointment. "I thought it was what you wanted."

"Yes…no…I mean…that's not the point! You just met me! People don't just do that to anyone they meet! I mean, I guess…I guess you could like someone the moment you look at them, but it's just…sudden…what I'm trying to say is…" He was blabbering. He was blabbering and it was obvious to anyone listening. France stared at him for a moment before chuckling.

"That is true, Mathieu, but I know when what I feel is more than just a passing fancy. Some things you can tell just by a look. And you, my darling, are more than just another college student. I don't know how yet, but these things you just feel, you know?" France shrugged, a carefree grin on his face. "I'm a kind of 'throw-everything-to-the-wind' kind of guy. I don't expect you to understand what I'm thinking."

That may be so, but…!

"Was I wrong to spring it on you so suddenly?" France asked, frowning slightly. "I may move fast, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with me, Mathieu."

"That's not…" Canada tried to gather his thoughts again, which had been bouncing around unrestrained for a while. How did he feel? It was so sudden! He'd just met France this afternoon! So he couldn't feel anything, really, could he?

"Mathieu. _Mathieu_." France gathered the flustered boy in his arms. "It's okay if you can't answer me now. I understand it's bit unusual, even for me. I should have waited."

It was…he felt something. He never considered love at first sight, that cheesy, cliché romance movie plotline, but something sang in his depths when France looked at him, a click like puzzle pieces. There was a sort of kindred spirit Canada felt, something he hadn't noticed in the many people around him at the school – Cuba was his friend, but Cuba sometimes revolved in a completely different universe.

So maybe it wasn't love. But it was a good start.

--

Feliciano smiled in his sleep. He had awoken but he didn't open his eyes; even without looking, he knew he was sleeping next to Germany. Heavens knew how he'd gotten there – it was his goal, but there had been such a ruckus before bed that he hadn't even known where he'd collapsed before he fell asleep.

Opening his eyes, Feliciano propped himself up on a shoulder and confirmed that yes, Germany was sleeping next to him. A smile crept up the younger twin's face. Yay! Yay, yay, yay!

Germany was so nice and he hadn't been friendly initially, but now, Feliciano was sure, Germany was warming up to him. He wanted someone like Germany to like him, that was for sure. He liked to surround himself with people he clicked with on a first impression basis. There was something about the fuzzy feeling he got whenever he was around his loved ones; it was like a family away from home.

"Germany…" Feliciano murmured, the words coming deep from his throat so he didn't wake anyone. "I like how you're nice to me. I like the way you carry yourself because I feel like I can depend on you. I like how you don't yell back at Romano when he yells at you. I like you…" His face warmed in the darkness but he repeated himself. "I like you, I like you, I like you, Germany…"

Finally feeling too flustered to continue, he looked away to the other bed. It was a bit of a development; Prussia was sleeping in the same bed as his brother. It surprised him, as Romano had insisted he had no feelings for the albino whatsoever, but he was putting up with this. Italy watched this curiously.

Yes, this road trip was turning out to be more interesting than he'd first thought.

--

On France's insistence, the rest of the crew stayed away from Canada and for a moment, the college student thought he had been dropped back to his daily routine. He would have been perfectly content with this, if he hadn't felt a bit unsettled when it came to France; it seemed an ending much too sudden. Then, as Canada crossed the grounds to the theater department, he spotted the group sitting around under a tree as if they were only a study group, no need to look more than a glance. Indeed, they looked deep in work, with papers and books spread out before them.

"I'm saying," the older twin was saying forcefully, jabbing his finger at a big sheet of paper Canada recognized as a map as he neared them, "we've been roading most of this road trip! I think it's about time we see the coast."

"Roading's not a word," Feliciano pointed out.

"I never said it was. Don't sweat the small stuff."

"What are you all doing?" Canada asked, merging into the group effortlessly, although he was mostly ignored. Romano kept arguing as if no interruption had been made. France, however, turned with a gracious smile.

"Mathieu!" Breaking from the group, France walked over and linked arms with Canada. "This conversation's gotten much too stale for my liking. Would you permit me to walk you to your next class?"

"Ah…" But France had already started steering him away from the bickering group. "Well…I suppose…I'm headed toward the theater department."

"You act?" France asked interestedly.

Canada shook his head. "Alfred's much better at that than I am. I sing."

"Do you? Are you any good?"

Canada smiled sheepishly. "You can't ask someone if he's good at something. You'll never get a straight answer."

"Well, I think you would," France commented, continuing to escort Canada across the grass. "Your voice is melodic in normal speech, so I think it would sound delectable to the ears."

Canada felt his ears burn. "So what were you all talking about before?" he asked to change the subject.

"We're on a road trip, as you already know, so we were just thinking of the next destination. The group's sort of undecided and we never plan so it's going a bit rocky." France made a face. "I think they're getting restless. They never plan, once you think about it."

Canada smiled. "If you'd like a recommendation, I agree with Romano. I think you guys should visit the coast. It's very pretty there and there's this cute little town down there. It goes by a lot of names in the local dialects, but it's generally called the Nordics."

"Hmm." They stopped in front of a grand set of French doors. "We're here," Canada said finally, looping his arm from France's grasp. "I'm sorry you have to go back to your stale conversation."

"It can't be helped," France shrugged. "But I'll see you later, Mathieu. Oh, and…" France leaned forward and brushed the boy's cheek with his lips. "Sing good," he whispered, a sultry smile on his face. Canada's face blossomed into pink. "I'd love to hear your voice someday."

"France," Canada blurted. "Can I talk to you alone later today? I have to give you your answer."

"Surely." France turned to return to his now fighting group, causing a scene on the grounds. "Even if you reject me, I'd like to know what you have to say."

--

Although he'd said that…Canada was feeling caffeinated butterflies in his stomach. France had somehow gotten the others to scad off elsewhere and Canada found himself alone with the smooth smiling man in his room.

"Mathieu," France said, leaning back on the desk and cocking his head gently. "I've been waiting and I would be lying to say I wasn't anxious to hear your answer."

Canada gulped and crossed the room slowly, picking his words out as he did so. "France," he started, coming to a stop in front of the man, "you're one of the only ones who actually calls me by my name. A lot of people mistake me for my brother or they don't even notice me at all. So I was happy about that.

"And then you paid attention to me and actually cared, so I was a bit surprised, but I was happy too.

"So although I don't know you very well and I haven't known you for long, you've already treated me different than a lot of people so…I guess what I'm saying is…I know you have to go soon…but I _would_ like to be involved with you." With that, Canada took a deep breath and did the most uncharacteristic move he'd dream of doing; he initiated and kissed France, who smiled into the kiss and brought a hand to run his fingers through his hair.

"I'm glad to hear that," France murmured in between kisses. "I'm _very_ glad to hear that."

They had been kissing for a while when the door burst open again and in rushed in a tanned man with wild dreadlocks tied up in a ponytail. "Oy, Mattie! I saw a bunch of creepy people hanging out in the common room and I was wondering if you'd known them!" He stopped, noticing the situation, and quickly tried to redeem himself. "Well, obviously you do, I guess! Hi! I'm Miguel! I'm the roommate. Are you a transfer? I haven't seen you here before."

"So you must be Cuba," France said smoothly, sliding in front of a viciously embarrassed Canada and holding his hand out to shake. "I'm France, and I've accosted your roommate. I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? Mattie's been needing some sort of person like you! I keep tellin' him he's got to get laid soon. Did you call me Cuba? That's a sweet nickname. What are you doing here? Are you in charge of that big group of delinquents outside?"

France smiled, guiding Canada forward. "I think a few introductions are called for at the moment."

--

Cuba had been gracious, laughing at Feliciano's recollections of the road trip so far and joking around with Spain and Prussia. He had helped map out a part of the course and gave his input as a well-traveled being. He hadn't been angry at the invasion; rather, he'd been excited at meeting all these people, although his expression had darkened when Romano accidentally called Canada 'America'.

"America…" Cuba said lowly, a dirty look on his face. "That noisy jerk…I feel sorry that you had to meet him before Mattie. You obviously got the wrong end of the deal there."

"Hey, France!" Feliciano called as they came back from dinner, pulling the driver to a corner. "Um…while you and Ame…Canada were doing your stuff…well…we sort of already got ready to leave. I mean, we can go tomorrow…but if you need more time…I don't know…"

"No. We can go. Euro's itching for us to go. I had been preparing myself for this anyway. It was always destined to be a long distance sort of thing." France looked nostalgic.

"Canada can't come with us, can he?" Feliciano asked.

"I don't think so. He seems too situated to be pulled out. It was different with Germany. I don't think we could just relocate him. I wouldn't want to disturb his studies."

"France," Feliciano said breathlessly, his eyes sparkling. "Wow! I think you really, _really_ like Canada!"

France tossed his head. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yay! I'm happy for you! Can I tell everyone else? Ooh! That's great! When we see America again, we can tell him!" Feliciano bounced off before France could say anything else.

So, as fast as they appeared, they were all loaded onto the Euro again, with the twins loaded with provisions Cuba stole from the school cafeteria ("A parting gift from me, don't sweat it!"). France smiled as he leaned out the window as Canada came closer. "We'll definitely see each other again. I'll make time to come visit you, Mathieu. I'm a master at relationships. This long distance can _work_."

Canada smiled. "You still haven't heard me sing yet," he reminded. "So you've got to come back for that, at least."

"True, sweetheart." There was a silence, ready to be filled with a sappy farewell when France grabbed Canada and gave him a kiss to make up for the distance. Prussia whooped as Cuba wolf-whistled outside.

"Ug, can we suck face elsewhere?" Romano shouted, kicking the driver's seat. Feliciano giggled.

"France." Canada grinned despite himself. "_J'attends avec impatience vous revoir._" At France's surprised look, he shrugged. "I never said I wasn't fluent in French."

"Come on!" Cuba shouted. "Start missing each other already!" With a slap of the bumper, Cuba shoved Euro forward, as France stepped on the gas, and with a scream and a cackle, the van shot forward and away.

To be continued

--

Note: Here's the crappy chapter I promised you. I'm having difficulties finishing the Nordic chapter, so I thought I might give you guys something to go off on while I hermit myself to write. And write I shall. Hopefully the France/Canada makes up for the less than adequate writing. I didn't put enough effort, I admit. And I am lazy. And focusing more on my OOC Italy twins in a historical sense. Thanks for understanding. Review, please.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

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The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 9

They found themselves in a quiet little café in the breezy part of town. It seemed to be a time of the year where the tourism was down; there was certainly the coastal, clear beach vibe to the town, adjacent to the tossing waves and salty spray of the ocean. The first sign to tip them off was the various little souvenir shops. The second was the uncanny amount of picture perfect sights.

And of course, Feliciano had looked up Canada's recommendation and squealed about it until he got his way.

"This is cute," the younger twin chirped cheerfully as he grinned over a steaming mug of mocha. The steam rising from the chocolate brown in the green, glazed ceramic cup framed his face as he spread his happiness. There were only a few who accepted this mood, though.

"It's boring," Romano insisted, leaning back on his chair. "It's just another place next to the sea that looks pretty but that's about it. Like Rome hasn't taken us to these kinds of places before."

"But it's different! It's the _Nordics_," Feliciano reminded.

"I like it too!" Spain agreed, beaming at Feliciano who pretended he hadn't heard him.

"We could _make_ it interesting," Prussia purred suggestively, leaning into Romano's personal space. The Vargas sighed loudly and ignored him; Feliciano noticed his brother no longer pushed the albino away like he used to.

Hmm.

"Is this what you do?" Germany spoke up finally, and everyone turned to him. "I mean, lurk around places and make idiots of yourselves?"

"We're not making idiots of ourselves!" France protested.

"We're making an idiot of _you_," Romano scoffed.

"It's not like that at all!" Feliciano cried, turning loudly in his chair so he made an ear screeching sound on the floor and seizing Germany's hands. "It's a sense of exploration!" he explained, earnestness coloring his cheeks. "There's something about a place you've never been to! It begs you to stay and uncover everything that's to be uncovered! That's what I think, at least!"

Romano wondered why on earth his brother had to give his voice that awful airy quality that sounded like he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"I guess you could see it that way," Germany said slowly, although the skeptical look on his face intensified as Italy leaned closer to him with wide, sparkly eyes.

"_I_ like it," France announced, as if everyone was actually listening to him. "Because…Mathieu suggested it."

Romano groaned dramatically. "Are you still hung up over that boy?" Replaying the pledge France had made while driving that he would look, but he would never touch another person as he was staying as honest and faithful to Canada, it seemed like a rather spur of the moment vow. "You'll probably never see him again and you think you can keep up a _long distance_ relationship?"

"_Oui_," France said, nodding as if the comment was below his level of care. "You wouldn't understand, Romano. You throw your feelings around much too…_cheaply_."

"What are you trying to say?" Feliciano felt his brother tense and let got of Germany's hands, in case he was needed for an intervention.

"I'm just saying," France said coolly, studying Romano with knowing eyes, "that maybe if you were more honest, you would know how I feel."

"I _am_ honest," Romano retorted, and Feliciano reached over to grab his brother's sleeve. "What do you want?"

"Ah! Um…give me a hug!" Because then, at least Romano would have to unwrap his arms from around him to attack, and that reaction would give them enough time to run out of the café to avoid injuries or damage. Romano huffed but gave in, wrapping his arms around his brother, who hugged him back.

"I wanna join in too!" Prussia yelled, tackling them in a giant group hug. Feliciano giggled as Romano yelped. Spain watched wistfully as France lost himself in another reverie; Germany merely finished his coffee and looked for a way to escape.

"Get off me!"

There was a sudden, violent motion and Prussia was thrown off; Feliciano had lived with Romano enough to latch on, unmovable. The albino stumbled back onto the table and jolted it, knocking the green ceramic cups onto the ground, spilling their contents and shattering them. The sound of the crashes along with France's scorched yelp alerted the waiter at the front, who had been successful in tuning them out.

Now he made his way toward them, picking his path through the chairs and tables as he neared the chaotic bunch: Romano was fuming as Feliciano clung to him, Prussia was pretending as if he hadn't broken anything and was trying desperately to pin the blame on Germany, who was still sitting as if the table hadn't been disturbed; France was trying to soothe the burn of the hot liquid on his pants as Spain attended to him with napkins.

"May I help you?" the waiter asked emotionless, as he scanned the ground with the broken cups.

"First, I'd like some ice," France started.

The waiter turned to him with a wordless stare. "Someone is going to have to pay for this."

There was a silence. "How much do we have on us?"

"Luddy!" Prussia shouted, grabbing his brother, who remained limp as his brother shook him. "You always got money on you!"

"You whisked me off without my wallet," Germany said monotonously.

"I paid for the coffee," Feliciano wailed. "And me and Romano haven't had a chance to find a bank!"

"No one's leaving until this gets accounted for," the waiter said, getting comfortable to watch this battle. He was not budging.

"We were running low on funds," Spain said, incriminating them further.

"We'll pay with our bodies!" Feliciano shouted. Romano slapped him across the head for the offer.

The waiter crossed his arms; the nametag on his chest tilted toward the light, casting a glare on the wall. The black lettering on the gold read 'Remy' and the young man was as short and blunt as his name.

"You're going to have to work for them then."

"Can I have my ice now?" France whined. Spain had since stopped mopping up his friend as he had gotten wrapped up in the current crisis. Remy sighed, the greatest inconvenience as he snapped his fingers.

"Ice!"

A head poked out from the kitchen, a mass of snowy white hair with the same bored look as Remy. There was a slight family resemblance to the two. "What do you want?"

"Ice."

There was a slight moment of incomprehension. "Frozen water," Remy clarified.

"Why didn't you just say so?" The boy ducked back into the kitchen.

"Your brother?" Feliciano, who had an affinity toward any sibling of any kind, unlatched himself from Romano. Remy nodded curtly, glancing at the twins with apathy. By now, they were all standing up, the broken ceramic pieces still littering the floor with the splash of spilled drink all over the table and chairs.

After a while, the white-haired brother came out, holding a glass of ice. France sighed happily at the sight, sinking into a chair. Remy directed his brother to the inflicted burn victim with his eyes. The boy, whose nametag merely read 'Ice', stood in front of France. He looked from his glass of ice to France's lap, then back again as if contemplating the idea of an ice pack. After a moment of thought, Ice turned the cup over and poured the ice onto the startled man's legs.

"What sort of service is this?" France yowled.

"Ice! You aren't getting into any trouble, are you?" Another body came from the kitchen, a kind looking young man with straw-colored hair wiping his hands with a dishtowel. "What did you do?"

"He needed ice," Ice said bluntly, pointing to France's lap.

"That's not what he meant," the man said exasperatedly, although he didn't seem too upset about it; in fact, by the look of him, he didn't seem to be one who often got upset. He came closer and noticed the broken cups. "What happened?"

"They broke the hundred dollar set," Remy explained briefly. "They don't have money."

"Did they? That's not good." The man turned back to the hitchhiking group with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid you're going to have to work for them then. My name is Tino and I'm the manager of this café. It won't take long to earn it up, so it shouldn't be too big of an inconvenience."

"We could go _get_ the money," Romano suggested, but Feliciano cut in before he could finish his idea. "That's a cute idea!" the younger twin gushed. "I'd love to work here! Can we start now?"

Tino smiled. "That's the spirit! No crying over spilled milk and everything! Business is a little slow lately, though. We have a few regulars, though. Where are you staying in the Nordics?"

The Bad Company Trio exchanged looks. "We didn't have a set place," Spain explained. "We're on a sort of cross country trip and we were going to sleep in our van…"

"That's horrible! That can't do! You can't experience the Nordics in a car!" Tino shook his head. "We have space upstairs in the living quarters, but it's only enough for three people. There's an inn down the street, though. We have connections with them, so I can send word to them."

"So we've got to work for room and board then," Romano said with a sarcastic twist.

Tino shrugged. "You _did_ break the cups. Ice, can you clean that mess up, please?" Ice didn't respond, but trotted off to fetch a broom and dustpan.

"So!" Tino clapped his hands and slid into a seat. There was a general feeling of inactivity, as Remy hadn't gone back to the counter since he'd made his way to the back. It was only a little bit obvious they were the only traffic the café had for a few hours. "This trip of yours…I don't get the feeling that some of you are the best of friends." He glanced at Germany, who had physically detached him from the rest of the group as he sat a distance away. "If you don't mind, could you tell me about it?"

"Sure! Cause you're such a nice person!" Feliciano pulled up a chair and promptly began discussing their trip so far in exact detail, even giving America's apartment number and the exact color of every single cat that Greece had. Tino was an avid listener, looking surprised at the right moments and asking the right questions. There was no doubt Tino was well-versed in the art of small talk and he had Feliciano might have talked all day if another stranger didn't duck out of the kitchen.

"What happened?" There was the gruff voice and air of intimidation that was paralleled by Germany. The thin-rimmed glasses only made the man look even more scary as he watched them all from a ways up; he was taller than any of the Bad Company Trio and he commanded a serious aura. He was not much for words, as he just glared at the customers with deducting blue eyes.

"Hey! Everyone, this is Berwald. He's the manager with me. We…"

"He's my wife," Berwald interjected, much to Tino's embarrassment. Growing noticeably flustered, the smaller man pushed the former back into the kitchen, whisper-scolding him all the way.

"So what are they?" France asked finally, all burns forgotten as the ice melted on his lap. He glanced at Remy, who seemed reluctant to answer.

"They live together," the silent waiter replied finally, as Ice returned and started sweeping up the ground with an unhurried pace. That seemed to be the final note, as neither brother continued and a silence hushed through the café again, Feliciano humming to himself as his attention strayed.

"Good afterno-_o-_on!" The long, drawn out 'o' echoed through the café as the door jingled and opened and Remy jolted as if he had been physically shocked. Ice never looked up from his sweeping. A rather ambitious looking young man came up to the crowd and wrapped an arm around Remy's neck as if they were best buddies. "Hey, looks like this place hasn't died yet! Who're all you?"

"Hi!" Feliciano answered with equal enthusiasm. "My name is Feliciano Vargas, this is my brother Romano, these are the Bad Company Trio Prussia, France, and Spain, and that is Germany! Very nice to meet you! What's your name?"

The man smirked, keeping his hold on Remy as the waiter struggled to escape. "It's a pleasure! I'm Leik, also these two's older brother."

"He's not our brother," Remy insisted, still resisting.

"Yes I am! Don't deny it! I may as well be your big brother! We've known each other since we were in diapers! Our blood basically flows the same!"

"That's impossible," Remy shot back. "Seeing as you're Danish and I'm Norwegian, which the last time I checked, are completely different countries to begin with."

"Such a big difference!" Leik shouted, wrapping his other arm around Remy. He turned to the bunch, oblivious to the flush the contact produced. "So you guys! Weird names, huh? What's up with that?"

"It's our nicknames!" Feliciano said. "America came up with them! He was good at that!"

"Was he?" Leik said back, sounding completely comfortable with the situation although he did not know what Feliciano was talking about and he had a struggling Remy in his arms.

"Yep! And I know! I'll come up with names for you too! Because that's what we do! You'll be Denmark. He'll be Norway!" Feliciano turned to Ice, who kept his eyes pinned to the ground. "And Ice…will be Iceland! See? It all makes sense!"

"Not really," Norway grumbled, but Denmark whooped.

"I like it! Hey, Nor, don't you think they're cute? Norway! It's such a cute nickname!" He reached to pinch one of the boy's cheeks, earning him a sharp slap. France glanced at Iceland, who had his eyes on the floor the entire time, a slight pink on his cheeks.

"And what about Tino and Berwald?" Spain asked, vice nicknamer.

"Eh…" Feliciano seemed lost in thought.

"What about Sweden and Finland?" France suggested. "They're known as the 'married couple' of North Europe."

Denmark hooted. "That's fantastic. Hey, listen, you guys aren't from around here, right? I work over at that one inn place down the street. Are you guys going to stay there?"

"Some of you have to stay here for collateral," Norway interjected, eying the mess that was no more as Iceland stood up with the dustpan and gave them all a bored look before going to dispose of the broken ceramic. His eyes landed on Denmark for a blink longer before he disappeared into the kitchen.

"Alright!" France spoke quickly. "I will bunk with the twins at the Inn while you three can stay here as prisoners! How does that sound?" Grabbing the Vargas twins like his children, France held them close. "This way," he said, giving Feliciano a knowing look, "there won't be any sort of trouble."

"Sweet!" Letting Norway go, the man moved across the café in a way that suggested he had been here more often than not. "You can get your stuff and we can get you into the café. Good thing I found you guys sooner!" He nodded toward Norway. "I just came to say that there are a lot of people coming in as the last weeks of warm weather are upon us and some last minute tourists want to come around before the snows hit."

Norway gave him a dirty look.

"France, you jerk!" Prussia shouted, making a face at his mock-insulted best friend. "Taking the twins for yourself! That' _so_ selfish. Tell him he's selfish, Luddy." He elbowed Germany, who pretended he did not exist.

"It's better they enjoy themselves at my experienced hands than at both of your clumsy ones," France said airily, whisking the twins off to follow Denmark. Feliciano giggled. "Of course, I won't _do_ anything. I've got my fidelity to Canada to protect."

"That gives me peace of mind," Romano said sarcastically, allowing his brother to drag him along. He glanced back to see Prussia arguing with Germany, who kept turning away from whatever his brother was saying. His eyes landed on Spain, who was watching them with an expressionless look. Blinking, the Spaniard noticed Romano watching him and smiled sheepishly, with a shrug, like 'what-can-you-do?'.

Romano flushed, pushing Feliciano out of the café.

--

"What have those annoying people been up to?"

They were walking back toward the café, where Norway bunked with Iceland. Denmark had appeared late in the evening to invite the older brother out for dinner and had whisked him off across the town to a little restaurant where there was foul smelling candles and a place for Denmark to tell bad jokes. He glanced at Denmark, who shrugged amiably.

"They seem okay. You don't need to talk like they're bad people. The long haired kid says pretty perverted stuff and the twins seem like airheads but they don't seem to be bad or anything. Why?"

Norway frowned, reminded of the afternoon's instances. "I don't like them. The blonde doesn't say anything, the black-haired one says too much, and the albino was hitting on Ice."

"Well, you never liked tourists much, Nor."

"Don't call me that."

Denmark laughed, littering the empty streets with the warm sound, his breath already showing in the air. It seemed winter was falling fast. Norway glanced at him as they passed under the street lamp, casting a warm glow on the both of them.

"What'cha looking at me for? I'm pretty cool, aren't I?"

"Hardly," Norway scoffed, turning away. "I was just thinking you look so stupid, I don't know why I didn't realize it before."

"I am not!" They stopped, standing in front of the darkened café where a light in the kitchen marked the presence of Sweden, who always lingered about the café floor if one member of the staff was still out. Denmark grinned. "It looks like it's time for me to go. It was nice eating with you. Night, Remy."

Norway said nothing, and Denmark turned and started walking away. Then, as if bubbling inside, Norway found himself calling out to him. "Leik!"

Denmark turned, surprised as Norway never called for him first. The boy seemed taken aback himself, mirroring the surprise and quickly finding words to cover it up. "Ah! Walk home safe."

Denmark blinked, and stared at him through the darkness, where Norway pretended he couldn't see the other in the night. After a sound, which revealed to be a chuckle, Denmark turned and waved briefly. "Will do! Sleep tight, Nor!"

--

"I believe," France announced as the twins were getting ready for bed, "that we have stumbled upon another romantic crisis in this little town of ours!"

"We also seem to, and then we get involved," Romano muttered, ignored by Feliciano who leapt up and agreed.

"Yes! I've noticed it too! Cute little Norway likes Denmark!"

"Yes!" France pointed at him, as if he were a student and he answered correctly. "You are right! And! The little bonus?"

"Um! Iceland likes him too! Denmark, I mean!"

"Correct! You get a million gold stars!" Feliciano cheered and flung his arms around France as if it were new years and everyone embraced even if the other happened to be an enemy or stranger or rapist. Romano pulled his brother away before France could cop a feel.

"Where is your basis for all this junk?" Romano retorted, tossing his head. "You can't just imagine up scenarios for your entertainment."

"You feel it too, don't you?" Feliciano gushed, grabbing his brother's hands. "Sexual tension!" he clarified when Romano gave him a look. "It's like England and America!"

Romano rolled his eyes. "Can't we just, for once, leave these people alone?"

"What should we do about this crisis?" France shouted, over Romano. Feliciano left his brother to sulk.

"First of all!" Feliciano commanded, taking the reins. "We find out which one Denmark likes more!"

"But then one of them's going to get jilted."

"It happens," Feliciano agreed, looking a bit sad. "It's sad. But! If we don't do something, that person will never get closure! And anyway, there's always going to be someone who doesn't get what he or she wants! And…and…" He let his hands flail. "I just want to set them up!"

"I understand!" France grabbed him and waltzed him around the room. "We're just born romantics, Feliciano, you and me! Romano's a grump, Prussia's a pervert, and Spain's too dense to see anything! That's why you and me stick together like glue and more glue!"

"You two are so dramatic," Romano scoffed, watching them from a chair.

"Join us!" France announced, sounding very recruit-like, holding out his hand as he twirled Feliciano around. Romano admitted this painted a strange picture, like these two were beings out of his world. "Understand the fabrics of romance! Familiarize yourself with the works of the mind! And then, maybe…it'll work for you!"

"Right!" Feliciano chorused. "You're not very good at expressing your feelings positively! Spain will never understand!" He covered his mouth not-very-apologetic-like for saying so in front of France. Romano flushed.

"Agreed!" France said, as if the confession was already common knowledge. "_Spain_!" he cried, taking a very schoolyard tone. "When will you ever notice me?" Clasping a hand over his heart, he feigned a faint, which Feliciano hammed up. "I want you to do all those dirty things you do to me in those wet dreams of mine and Prussia just isn't a very good substitute…!"

"Shut up!" Romano snapped, before turning on this brother. "Whatever I feel about Spain _or_ Prussia is my business! And why don't you mind yours? It's sickening to see you making your little girly fluttery eyes at Germany! Why don't you just ask him to marry you already!"

France turned to Feliciano interestedly, wanting to know his reaction. Feliciano blushed but stood tall despite himself. "I will! In fact, I'll go right now!" When he turned to go, Romano practically dove on him.

"Whoa, whoa! No need to go do that!" Feliciano giggled as Romano held him down. "When did you figure that? I was just teasing you. How can you like that bastard?"

"Germany's not a bad guy," Feliciano insisted, before wrapping his arms around Romano's neck and pulling him down. "But I'll always love big brother first~!"

"Orgy!" France shouted, diving on them.

"Pervert! Get off me!"

"Vee~!"

To be continued

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Note: Yeah. Update.

I was planning on collabing with Plasticframed Paintings for an album fic with Arctic Monkeys. The theme is nightlife. What sort of multi-fic with that would you be interested in reading? Basically I'm groping for a plot. Please help a brother? Review, please.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: : The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: --

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The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking 10

Somehow in between the time it took to get up, eat breakfast, and get to the café to start working back the tea set, France had gone, rent or bought (no on knew), and managed to avoid detection and returned with four black French maid uniforms.

Possibly, all hell broke loose.

"What were you thinking?" Romano shouted, as Feliciano happily fingered the fabric. There would be no resistance from him. "Where do they sell these sort of things anyway?"

France stroked his chin, the epitome of excellence. "I have my sources, my dear."

"I want one!" Feliciano announced, holding up a complete set and rushing off to the bathroom to change before anyone could take it from him. France nodded satisfactedly, as if his apprentice had done well.

"So! Anyone else willing to take them!" France tossed his head about. "Obviously I would volunteer but I thought I might share the privilege with others. Because I'm such a nice man."

They were splayed on the café tables, the CLOSED sign still hanging over the door but Denmark still managed to slip in. Finland was smiling genteelly as if he was a doting parent.

"I think the waiters should take them," he said, sealing three yet-unnamed victims' dooms. "After all, it would be hasslesome to cook with them."

"I nominate Nor!" Denmark shouted. Norway had seemingly forgotten his new name until France shoved an outfit in his arms. The boy struggled, refusing and rejecting the idea despite Denmark's pleas and obvious empty promises. Iceland, however, stared at the dress, thinking to himself.

"Sort of like a manga café," he murmured to himself, before lifting up a dress and studying it. "I'll take one, I guess."

"Ice!"

Iceland shrugged at Norway, his eyes flitting toward Denmark. "It doesn't seem too bad."

"See? Ice's a good sport. You know what? I'd actually like to see Ice in a dress! Ice, you'd look so pretty!" Denmark stepped toward Iceland, who shifted backward, clutching the dress as a shield.

Norway fumed behind him, his face starting to flush significantly. "I'll do it," he growled, staring murder at Denmark. "Because big brothers don't leave their little brothers alone to hungry wolves." Grabbing Iceland's hand, he marched to the back, where Feliciano was surely primping himself up.

"That's right," France said, turning slowly and significantly at Romano. "Big brothers don't…"

"Pull that shit on me and I'll kill you."

France rounded on Spain. "Hey, Spain, old buddy. What about you? You and Feliciano could wear matching outfits and that's sort of romantic isn't it? Yeah?"

Prussia grinned, wrapping an arm around Spain's shoulders. "That's actually a cool idea. I have a camera. We can send it back to friends at home."

"I don't think anyone at home would want to see me in a dress."

"Yeah, but it's funny, isn't it?"

"Come on! Do it!"

Spain looked skeptical, glancing at the remaining dress with its too short for comfort skirt. "I don't know…it's cute but I don't think I really want to put on a dress…"

"Come on!"

"Wait!" The word seemed to burst forth before Romano could rein the impulse in again. "I'll wear it, okay?" France's evil glint looked too perfect for coincidence. Snatching the black nightmare from his arms, Romano made his way to the back, his face almost rivaling Norway's.

"That was the best ploy you pulled ever!" Prussia whispered excitedly to France, who only looked mildly self satisfied.

"You definitely owe Romano one for saving your last shreds of dignity, Spain," France mocked.

Germany tried to melt into the wall and become a light fixture, but realized regretfully he had yet to achieve this goal. Meanwhile, France had seemingly whipped three waiter outfits out of thin air (much more modest than the sexy waitress ones). Denmark was more than slightly riled up.

"You know," he said as he watched the deboggle from a booth, "if I didn't have to worry about the onslaught of visitors at the hotel, I'd be here helping you all out." No one mentioned the fact he was still there, but that was the least of anyone's thoughts when Feliciano waltzed (generously used in this sense) out into the area, dragging Romano with him.

Feliciano was obviously a dress person. The fluffs fluffed where they should, the puffs puffed appropriately, the black flattered his figure – suggestive like a wink but wholesome like a high collar. Ribbons and lace decorated everything else; a silk garter winked out from the folds of the skirt and he had on fishnets and platform heels.

More or less, he was well learned in the art of role-play.

"That's not makeup, is it?" France asked amusedly and Feliciano looked up coyly, the glitter hanging off his lashes. The other three didn't have such good control over their speechlessness as Feliciano twirled, still holding onto his brother's hand.

"But Romano looks cute too! I mean, duh, we look the same!" For Romano, his glare downplayed most of the sexiness factor but the dress worked just like it did for Feliciano. Pulling his hand from his brother's grasp, he crossed his arms and spread the glare across the room, daring anyone to say anything. Prussia pushed his luck with a wolf whistle.

Romano opened his mouth to let loose the chain of curses he had already planned up but he saw the way Spain was looking at him, with wide eyes badly hiding something dark flitting across the green. Poprocks giggled in his stomach and he shut his mouth.

"N_or_~!" Denmark called loudly. "I_ce_~! Come out!"

There was muffled sputterings of indignation before Iceland slowly peeked his head out, wobbling out on unsteady feet in heels. His stark white blonde hair contrasted nicely with the dark hairpiece, full of frills and unnecessary ribbons. Norway stormed out, quickly stepping in front of his brother.

"Frilly!" Denmark shouted, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Norway dressed up in black lace and silk. The latter pouted, although this effect was less homicidal in the outfit.

"I don't know how you convinced me to do this," he grounded out, glaring murderously at France, who grinned and shrugged.

There was a tsk-ing from the general direction of the kitchen and they all turned to see Finland, shaking his head with a shadow of a grin on his face. "Young ones," he said, as if that explained the whole strange deboggle.

"Let's change!" France shouted, pulling up the waiter outfits and starting to disrobe then and there.

While Spain and Prussia were politely shown the dressing room by Iceland, France was aptly kicked in that direction by Romano, who had started frothing about inappropriateness and the Heavenly Father and pervertedness.

"I think they're fun," Feliciano giggled, twirling around so the black lace spun alluringly in the light.

"I'm glad someone enjoys cross-dressing," Romano grumbled.

When the café finally opened around noon, the influx of tourists was made even more obviously so; there was more people in the little building than before and not even Romano had time to gripe about his outfit. Of course, France made it difficult; reaching for a skirt's backside as a way of nipping heels. This brashness prompted several visitors to attempt the same, although they were properly discharged by either Romano or Norway.

Iceland stood at the counter, looking the poster boy of Lolita as he leaned wordlessly, flipping through a newspaper left behind by a satisfied patron (if one couldn't get enough of the lavishly dressed wait(resses), the trio were charming as waiters – the epitome of perfect gentlemen.

There came a lull in the activity, after which a boy ran in to greet Finland with a "Mom, I got you something!" (a story about this boy, Peter, being taken in by Finland the last time he was separated by his parents, a long story). Spain was sitting in a booth in the back, flanked by Prussia who was making quite creepy faces at Romano. Francis was trying to make Iceland show some sort agitation, but the silent boy nimbly deflected every single grope with a well-timed dodge.

"Having fun, Germany?" Germany, who had been spending the whole time _not_ watching in a corner, looked up from a crossword puzzle he had nicked (boredom levels had sadly reached the level of crossword puzzle, but not quite to Sudoku). Feliciano bounced over to him, the black skirt rising dangerously and Germany tried not to look.

"It's…interesting." To say the least.

"Ooh! It's too bad Francis wasn't able to get you an outfit too…it would be nice to have you with us." Germany wasn't very certain, but he was fairly confident that Feliciano was inching toward him. Clearing his throat, he attempted to inconspicuously turn away from the boy – but that further proved his suspicion. Feliciano noticeably shifted at him.

"Um…what would you like." If he had more effort in something other than avoiding this boy, who he still didn't know very well, he might have formed that sentence into a question.

"Oh? Aren't we friends? I'm just talking to you!" Talking involved space…space! Feliciano rested a hand on his arm, with a look of utter rapt. Or adoration. Whichever it was, it was unsettling and Germany wondered if it would be right to actually stand up and move.

Ah~ if Germany wasn't an ideal man, Feliciano didn't know who was. Maybe he wasn't a tall, dark stranger, but he was tall. And mysterious. Not to mention he had saved him. He felt his heart beat in his throat; he dared inch closer.

Romano was getting ready to storm across the room and pull Feliciano off Germany; somehow, that damned blonde was making his brother climb on him. What sort of evil spell was this? But before he could hobble across a few inches, his sixth sense told him danger.

He stepped out of the way before Prussia's grabby hands could connect with the place where he had been only seconds before.

"What the hell?"

"Can't I just…_touch_ you?" This didn't have to carry any sort of sexual connotation, but with Prussia and France, you could never tell. Prussia's eyes were already stuck hungrily on him and Romano tried to dodge out of their path.

"No. No can't. You can't look at me, you can't undress me with your eyes, you can't even think about me."

"Oh, but come on," Prussia urged, stepping closer. "You look so pretty…if I don't control myself, I may nosebleed."

"I hope you lose enough blood to die," Romano grumbled, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, but just a few glorious days before, we were making out like we were the only people in the world!" Prussia let memory haze over his face before his grin came back and he advanced toward Romano. "Come on, darling. You didn't forget that, did you?"

"I just don't feel up to that in these kinds of clothes," Romano tried, scooting away and finding himself backed into a corner. He couldn't go anywhere without crashing into the wall or stepping around Prussia. Perhaps he could climb over Spain to get to the other side of the booth, but that would surely mean more embarrassment.

And Spain was staring at him so strangely he just wanted to find some pants. Or a sweater. He was wearing boxers and had nothing to compromise in the chestal area, but he may as well have been a girl. Feliciano was too busy perching himself on Germany's knee (_what_! How did that happen? Where was he?!), Norway was busy muttering to himself as he tended to the patrons who were purposely ignoring them, France was still trying to chat it up with Iceland…yelling help would just result in people actually looking in his direction.

He could throw the shoes, but if he looked down to take them off, Prussia would jump him.

"Stay away from me," Romano warned, wondering if he could pull the ribbon around his waist around Prussia's neck. All thoughts of making Spain jealous were forgotten; he wasn't going to compromise himself like this.

"Romano!"

Romano took another step back but a pair of hands shot out and pulled him away from Prussia's grasp. Struggling to steady himself to a standing position, the older Vargas was surprised to see Spain holding him; apparently, this was shocking to the latter as well, as Spain quickly let him go.

"What was that?" Prussia asked, mirroring Romano's confusion.

"It was…well…" For once in his chatty life, Spain was at a loss for words. "He just…he didn't want you to touch him."

"Gilbert!" Out of nowhere, France appeared to tackle Prussia out of the way but Romano was watching Spain. "Ice won't talk to me! What should I do?"

"Well, you're not as awesome as me, so…"

"It wasn't anything," Spain said quickly, when Romano was still standing next to him. "I was trying to help you…you know…because you didn't seem okay with it…I was just…being a friend…"

Romano opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but a jumbled, "Thanks," flew out instead. Spain smiled gingerly at him before standing up and separating Prussia and France, the latter getting a bit too friendly with the albino.

The door of the café slammed open. "Wh _ew_! So many people! Can't a man get a decent cup of coffee around here!" Indeed, Denmark looked utterly ruffled, his hair messier than usual. He collapsed into a chair.

"Serves you right for not helping me out of this," Norway shot, slapping the wet towel he was using to clean the tables in front of Denmark.

"Aw, but you look so cute. How was business?"

"Busy. And perverted."

Iceland walked slowly from the kitchen, carrying a cup of coffee in a more careful way than he had been treating any other customer during the day. When he finally set it down, the liquid was carefully balanced and when Denmark thanked him, he pinked slightly and stood a distance away.

Denmark was just adding sugar to his coffee when he spotted Feliciano giggling in the corner, sitting on a very awkward-looking Germany's lap. "What are you guys doing?"

"Being friends!" Feliciano chirped back happily.

"Hey!" Denmark's face lit up and Norway had started shaking his head even before Denmark turned to him. "Norway, want to be friends like them?"

"No."

"Just for a minute."

"Nope."

Denmark crossed his hands, all coffee forgotten. "Come on, Nor. We're best friends, remember?"

"Actually we weren't." Norway was holding his own very nicely against Denmark, even in the dress. Romano was secretly jealous.

"Fine. Be that way. Ice!" Denmark's voice had drawled into a coercing tone. "So…I know that…_we're_ friends…Ice…you wanna sit on big brother's lap?"

"That's hardly appropriate," Norway scoffed, crossing his arms and looking cross himself.

"Ice…come on. We're friends, aren't we?"

Iceland looked indecisive, glancing back and forth between Norway, who was determinedly not looking at him, and Denmark, who was nodding and grinning like a fool. Finland and Sweden were in the kitchen, not helping matters. For a moment, he hesitated, but the moment he made a movement forward, Norway had interrupted.

"Al_right_, fine! Don't bother, Ice. You don't want to touch this idiot anyway." Bursting forward, Norway clamored clumsily onto Denmark, almost too rushing in his movements. Iceland watched them for a beat before turning and heading for the kitchen.

"This is…nice," Denmark chuckled, nearly suffocated by the frill and the fact that Norway had accidentally kneed him in the chest. Still, the end result of a stubborn young man in his lap and arms was enough for him to pretend nothing had happened.

"I hate you," Norway muttered, as Denmark tangled his arms in the outfit's many yards of ribbon. At this point, Feliciano had attempted to make Germany put his arms around him, much to Romano's chagrin. The elder Vargas quickly pulled his twin off, elbowing Germany in the face, much on purpose.

Iceland emerged again with Finland, who was drying his hands. The man took a look around the room: eyes scooting over two struggling twins, one blonde holding his face, two grown men bickering about themselves on the ground, a Spaniard actually attending to a rather depressed looking visitor, and finally to Denmark and Norway, in a mess of black and lace and ribbons.

"This is a business," Finland reminded, and if this wasn't a threat enough, Sweden appeared behind him with a dark look and a thick pot in hand. In the same fashion as teens caught in bed, each individual detached themselves except for Spain, who had started amiably chatting with the man who looked like only wanted coffee and was staring enviously at the cup that Denmark had forgotten.

"You know, I've got this really cool shirt that says 'Shut Up' on it, I think it would look really good on ya!"

--

Somehow, the nightlife at Nordics became much better at the arrival of the tourists, for there was suddenly a huge festival near the lake. Feliciano had skipped off (Romano made him take the dress off first) with Germany, accompanied by France and Spain. Romano had wanted no part of the whole frivolous event and had planned to stay at the café to salvage his manhood, but Prussia had lurked around. Thankfully, Denmark had distracted him by talking about some "awesome" activities at the festival and the two had gone off deep in conversation.

Sweden and Finland had taken the night off at Peter's instance and Norway had followed them to keep an eye on Denmark. Romano found himself (with the cursed dress off, thankfully) in the café with Iceland.

That was awkward.

He felt slightly bad, watching Iceland sort out the chairs and tables alone, so he shifted and reached to straighten a couple cushions. This continued in silence for a while.

"So…how…are things usually around here?" He was not a smalltalk kind of guy. That was Feliciano. Still, he felt it was only right to try and seem friendly to someone who didn't look particularly thrilled at their presence.

"Quieter."

Ice was not giving him much to work on. He really was about to give up and storm off to find Feliciano (after all, now he had to watch his little brother like he was only five, what with that bad influence Germany around) when Iceland spoke up again.

"So…how are things with Spain?"

The matter of the question and the fact that Iceland _had_ been listening and watching threw Romano off a bit. Of course, the question returned and he fumbled with the chair he had been pushing in. Even without the maid costume, Iceland looked devious. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Iceland stared at him blankly. "Remy told me he overheard you freaks talking about you liking Spain or whoever. Or was it Prussia…? Whatever."

Overlooking the way Iceland had used 'freaks', Romano decided to set the record straight. "It's none of your business. You think _you're_ an exception? What about you and that ugly, annoying guy, Denmark? You think you weren't obvious at all?"

Iceland stared at him, chair in hand as if he were about to swing it over his head as a weapon. There was another pause (uncannily common in this conversation) before Iceland surveyed Romano with approval. "You're not bad."

"You're not too bad yourself."

"It doesn't matter," Iceland said, straightening the last chair and dusting off his hands. "He likes my brother, and even if my brother won't admit it, he likes that…guy. It wouldn't be right to try and take what's not mine, even if he _was_ interested."

"You're not just going to give up?" It seemed a ridiculous thing to do, especially with someone like Iceland. That boy could hold a grudge, he figured. Iceland shrugged.

"There's no use chasing after something that's not going to happen."

--

Surprisingly, Norway realized, that when he came to keep an eye on Denmark and the new annoyances, Denmark had preferred to stick with him. Still, he kept the ragtag group in sights, making sure the clumsy twin didn't knock anything over or the crazy trio didn't make a fuss. It was a bit difficult, as Denmark was trying to distract him.

"Hey, look! You wanna get something to eat?"

"Hmm…whatever."

So in a matter of seconds, he was pulled away and before he could complain, Denmark had pressed some fried squid in his hand. "Here! My treat!"

"I was going to have you pay anyway."

He had lost his view of the troublemakers. He supposed it was only fair to try and enjoy himself now. "You know, it's going to get colder from now."

"Enlighten me, idiot." Denmark laughed, as if he hadn't been insulted.

"The lake'll freeze over you know! Hey, let's go ice skating again! We haven't gone in ages; you never want to go with me anymore."

"I don't want to nearly have a heart attack again when you fall through the ice again."

"That was once. And I wasn't going to die!" Denmark looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh, Nor, were you really that worried about me?"

"No, not at all." The squid was chewy. He'd focus on that instead than talking. Still, Denmark wrapped an arm around him; Norway's insides squirmed but he willed them to be still.

"It was really a good thing you went and got Sweden you know. Even if I don't like him very much. I really couldn't get out of that hole by myself, really. To be honest, I only pretended I could so you wouldn't try and come closer. If you'd fallen in, I wouldn't be able to face myself."

"I'm a much better swimmer than you," Norway insisted, sticking the skewer stick in his mouth.

"Yeah, maybe, but…" Denmark squeezed him closer. "I don't want you to get hurt. You're my best friend _and_ your big brother, so I've got to try and keep you safe. I really care about you, you know." There was a pause as Denmark bit the last of the squid in his mouth.

"…you're annoying, you know that?" Denmark glanced over at him. Norway was slightly flushed, but he couldn't really tell with the festival lights around them. "Maybe I _will_ go ice skating with you this year."

"Really?! Yay~!"

--

Prussia was snoring loudly. Germany was not, laying still like he had been trained to be statue-esque in sleep. Normally, Spain would also been in dreamland as well, but he lay awake, staring into the darkness.

It was Romano. He'd known it was Romano, because Feliciano would not have protested in giving Prussia a great big hug. It was Romano who was resisting, who was refusing Prussia's advances. And knowing that, he'd gotten testy about the fact that Prussia was bothering him and even stepped in to intervene. He was a nice guy, so he would do that sort of thing; but he'd gotten angry and…_jealous_, even, although he didn't know what of.

He liked Feliciano, but he'd gotten upset seeing Prussia with Romano. This wasn't a new fact; he'd felt the same time when he walked in on the two at Germany's flat, and again in Canada's dorm.

And anyway, Prussia had already laid claims on him. And best friends didn't get in the way of such things. It really was a conundrum.

_It'll all be better in the morning! Sometimes you have to sleep on it!_ And with that in mind, Spain turned over and aimed for sleep.

To be continued

--

Note: I think this exchange sums up what happened:

Jim: Because of budget cuts, we decided to give the raises to the marketing department.

Phyllis: What a dumb idea! He just wants to give the raises to his friends and people he sleeps with!

Jim: Hey. Whoa.

Basically, that's what happened to me. I acknowledge it was rather mean of me to update this story with a fake chapter when I haven't updated in ages, so I apologize for that. Obviously I have never butted heads with fanfiction readers; you guys are much more vicious than I gave you credit for initially. You don't mess with readers. I also broke site rules as well, apparently: orz.

But I have several things to say as well. First, I have a confession. I had formerly dumped this story. We parted ways and were actually saying hello in the hallways and being cordial for a couple of ex's. Metaphor: I have lost inspiration for this fic. I feel like I owe you an explanation for not updating until now.

Second: Please do not rat out on Plasticframed Paintings. This "boycott" was all my idea, and I take responsibility for my actions. I was completely prepared to take the flames for my rash and inappropriate audacity and I used them in a constructive ways to spook myself into thinking twice before messing with readers (and to counter the horrible weather).

Third: You should probably thank the anonymous "Angry Reader". His/her review stating his/her reason why I should update made me finally force myself to write this chapter. And I do mean force.

Thanks for hearing me out, and again, excuse me for all the grievances I caused you. - Canadino


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